Ashen Souls
by MightyMerlin
Summary: 3 months has passed since the Civil War ended. The Dragonborn, Morgan Aurelius, now faces her biggest challenge yet. From friend and foe alike. Only one thing is certain. Only one Dragonborn will survive...
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: It's meeeeeee! :P Well, I promised a fairly short wait for the next story and for once, I managed to live up to that promise :D  
Took me a long time to think of a name but thanks to a little chat and nod of approval from my good friend redchillismoke, _Ashen Souls_ is what I decided upon :)**

 **Anyway, here we go, just setting the scene but there are many things going to be in play for the future...I even had to write down a f**king flowing chart with notes to keep track of everything :O XDDDDDD**

 **Hope you enjoy, and leave a comment if you like, I don't bite...I leave that to Morgan ;D**

* * *

 _White Gold Tower, Cyrodiil, 4E 206_

Chancellor Taverus clenched his fingers together and fought the urge to flee. Normally he and the rest of the Inner Council would meet and determine the Empires next moves. Normally it was just the twelve of them plus the Emperor.

But of course, he was dead. Had been for three months.

Taverus frowned as the twenty or so Justiciars of the Aldmeri Dominion had fanned out in the expansive room. And while there were a hundred Palace guards within fifty feet of their location, he knew that any act of resistance would spell the end of the Empire.

But it was the single figure standing in the centre of the room that was what concerned him the most. After the Emperors death, there had been a scramble for the vacant position. Poisoning and assassinations had been extremely common and it was only when an entire army of the elves arrived that the killings stopped.

Which was the reason why the altmer male in front of him scared him more than anything except a dragon, which were still numerous and had been attacking many villages so often that the trade with the Thalmor controlled provinces had stopped entirely.

Justiciar Thendril had a reputation that had made even the hardiest Empire war veteran to sweat in the boots at the mere mention of his name. Not only was he a highly capable military strategist: it was he that had manoeuvred the Thalmor forces in a way that they had managed to force the Hammerfell army into retreat in their own province, and he had also been the man responsible for strengthening the army within Cyrodiil.

He managed not to flinch as the green eyes of the terrifying elf gazed at him, but only just.

"It has been three entire months since the loss of your _beloved_ Emperor, and yet I find myself…disappointed at how little progress your Empire has made in that time," the tall altmer drawled as he paced the centre of the room.

"We have protocols to follow…"

Thendril smirked.

"Oh, of course. The practicality of your lesser species. Titus had no heirs and that left you with no legitimate claim to the throne."

He stopped pacing and spun around, his eyes meeting that of the Chancellor once more.

"With one outside exception. The woman responsible for the deaths of two of the highest ranking members of the Thalmor organisation, the destruction of our Embassy within Skyrim and from what many of our scribes and spies believe, was the murderer of your pathetic, weak Emperor."

The Chancellor blanched.

"That is not the reason for this meeting!" He blurted, trying to maintain eye contact with the terrifying Justiciar.

Thendril smirked.

"On the contrary, it was I who brought all of you here. You see, I have reason to suspect that at least one of you was involved in an attempt to make contact with the High Queen of Skyrim. Knowing that we have halted all trade with our client provinces of Elsweyr and Morrowind and realising that Hammerfell is about to fall under our might, some of you are getting desperate."

He stopped pacing and turned to face one Council member.

"You are Motierre, correct? I know you have a great deal of information traders within Cyrodiil and Skyrim. If you know of any names, now is the time to inform me of any possible threats to your Empire and to that of the Dominion."

Amaund Motierre was silent for a moment before smiling.

"My liege, every member in this room with exception to myself has been involved with nefarious and destabilising 'attempts' in the last month. I have names of those responsible within Skyrim also."

Thendril paused before nodding to the captain.

Ten minutes later, Thendril was standing beside Motierre as he placed his signature on the parchment before him. He was impressed at the humans calmness although he knew that he was ambitious for a man. And was therefore dangerous.

Yet he held in an amused chuckle as he reviewed the new draft of the White-Gold Concordat.

 _Ninety percent of trade sent to the Isles._

 _All entries to the Legion to be evaluated every three weeks instead of six._

 _Any indication of Talos worship to be condemned to death, evidence not necessary if approved by a high ranking member of the Circle._

 _Any sympathisers of the Blades are to be executed on the spot._

 _Any person insulting a member of the Dominion is to be sent for reeducation._

 _Any person who worships or even attempts to contact the 'Dragonborn' are to be executed, along with their families._

He nodded. The list went on but those points would be enough to safeguard the Dominion until the brutes in the North were dealt with. All he needed now was for Herself to come to a decision while he would ensue that this secondary puppet on the throne took his orders from him and him alone. He had ambition, and informing Herself was mot a priority right now.

Two armies were currently in Cyrodiil and awaiting commands. By his estimations, they could sweep aside Skyrims pitiful army in a few days and bring order to the cold lands of the barbarian Nords…

* * *

 _Alinor, Summerset Isles…_

As she dressed, she smiled.

 _Everything is finally falling back into place. The weak human Empire is on its knees, the infernal Redguards are down to one final stronghold and the small rebellions in Elsweyr have been put to rest._

To some, she was only known as 'Mistress', to the rabble she was referred to in private as 'Elven Bitch' and to those who knew better when they met her, she was Herself.

Being only ninety two years of age, she was one of the youngest to have ever ascended to the position she held as leader of the Aldmeri Dominion. The election process had been swift and every single back room attempt to derail her ambitions had been thwarted. Sending a brief message of thanks to her deceased parents for their strict training, she pulled on the robes she now wore and shivered as the dozens of enchantments took hold.

She was always a tempting target after all.

The two servants entered the room on time and she glanced at them briefly. Both young Elven males were stripped to nothing but their trousers and she held in a smirk as she watched them struggle to not stare at her directly: they knew to do so would be a death sentence.

Then she chuckled softly. She knew one of them. The man was thrown out of his 'noble house' when it was discovered they had been plotting to overthrow her. His parents had been executed, their bodies given to the Sload in exchange for rare soul gems. His sister had been sent to reconditioning, and was now a proud member of the Justiciars, her past life forgotten.

And this little boy had been given to her as a pet. He never said a word any more. He had no tongue after all.

But the other one…

"You, stay. Fenaris. Leave until I send for you later," she ordered crisply.

Fenaris bowed and left quickly and quietly, and she smiled as the remaining male began to fidget. She smirked at his bony frame and the way his skin stretched over his bones. A weakling if she ever saw one.

"By all means, try and reach for the small dagger you have strapped to your ankle. Compared to what the Justiciars will have planned for a traitor such as yourself, dying by my hand would be a far easier option for you."

The young man swiftly grasped the dagger that was attached to his ankle and had barely managed to raise the weapon in an attacking swing before she had moved forward, her arms wrapping around his weedy arms and clasping her hands together in a crushing bearhug.

Pressing him against the wall, she smiled at the shorter male in her arms. She could feel him struggle and increased the pressure, using her innate Alteration magic to strengthen her limbs so that they were as strong as malachite alloy. The dagger dropped to the floor as she heard his arms break yet she maintained her hold, crushing his face into her chest and smirking.

"You truly thought you could attack me? My goodness, the youth these days. I can feel you poking me with that little thing you have, perhaps I should send you for reconditioning…"

A loud series of cracks followed her words and she dropped him just before blood sprayed from his mouth as he slumped to the floor. Straightening her hair slightly, she glanced down at the dying man on the floor of her private quarters.

"Two out of ten for effort. Enjoy your last few moments in pain."

She swept from the room without a backwards glance, nodding to the ten guards outside who were standing at attention.

"The intruder in the room. Flay the skin from his body before you end his life. Captain, follow me for the Summons."

An hour later, she found herself drumming her fingers impatiently on the Sun Throne. The Summons were always testing on her patience but there was no doubt that they were important. She simply wished that most of the requests that the nobles spurted from their idiotic lips could be solved by throwing them into a vat of Sload acid, the most corrosive substance that they could use for torture purposes. It never killed outright but the agony it could inflict was far beyond what any alchemist had managed to create.

The next to last visitor had requested a purge of the dragons that roamed the Summerset Isles and she found herself ignoring his descriptions of death and fire. The dragons were a menace, true, yet they never attacked the citadels when three of them had fallen to a fusillade of arrows and magical projectiles in Alinor. The beasts had stayed clear since that massacre and were content with the villages outside the walls.

Seeing as the villages were human, orcish and even Argonian-led she found herself shrugging at their plight. They may contribute to the cities with gold ore and cheap food but it was nowhere near important enough to send out battalions of mages and archers to down the creatures.

She gazed impassively as the wretched Orc stomped from the room muttering curses. She doubted the idiot would live long enough to leave the gates for his insolence and Herself turned to glare at the glorified doorman who was looking decidedly pale.

"How many more are waiting?" she asked impatiently.

"O….one more, Your Magnificence," he stammered.

Then she recalled that the listings had one name that was actually worth her notice. Scout Dranis was possibly the greatest scout that the Thalmor Army had. Originally born in Valenwood and raised by the Thalmor after his parents had been killed by a rebellious group, he had pushed himself harder than any soldier that she could recall.

Over one hundred missions and he had never failed a single one. One year ago, she had sent him on perhaps the most dangerous mission he had ever received, knowing that there was a possibility that it may cost him his life. She smiled when she recalled how he had cockily smiled directly at her before bowing and leaving a mere hour after been given his orders.

"Send him in."

The first thing she noted was the horrific and disgusting stench of burnt flesh that wafted into the room the moment the massive twin doors were opened. Having spent many years in learning the arts of torture, it never bothered her. Yet as the staggering figure entered the room, she had to resist the urge to order his death from his ragged appearance alone.

Scout Dranis shuffled into the room and threw his travelling cloak to one side, exposing his melted armour and trail of blood that leaked from three gigantic tears in his chest plate. Even as she motioned for the Healers in attendance, the Scout shook his head sadly.

"Forgive me, My Liege, no magic can heal these wounds."

She frowned as he bent to one knee.

"Dragon attack on the shoreline. I assisted the Fifth Light in felling the beast yet I was not fast enough to avoid its claws. I am ready to give my report," he said simply, his voice steady and calm.

"Proceed."

She had to maintain appearances after all, although his imminent death troubled her.

"Ulfric Stormcloak has been slain in battle, along with eighty percent of his 'Stormcloak' army. Windhelm has said to have been a centre of conflict from what simple peasants have told me, the Argonians and Dunmer races no longer within the city."

She snorted at that piece of news. Ulfric was a tool that had outlived his pitiful existence. Windhelm was a stone city full of bigots and the inferior races leaving would only increase the strife within Skyrim. She crossed her legs and adjusted her robes before nodding for him to continue.

"Ulfric was slain by the 'Dragonborn'. His head crushed by a single blow of her fist."

That made her sit upright. The last report from Elenwen has detailed information of this girl and while the late Emissary had been impressed by the girls combat ability and even her ability to lie, she was a small Breton and no human had that sort of body strength.

"The Dragonborn is a creature of the night, My Liege. A vampire that walks in daylight. Only one clan has that ability within Skyrim."

"The Volkihar. Harkon is a filthy beast," she mused.

"Harkon was also slain by this Dragonborn."

She snarled. Thendril would pay for not informing her of all these details.

"I have two more pieces of information," Dranis managed to cough out as blood dribbled from his mouth.

"Look at me," she commanded.

His melted face would haunt her for weeks to come, the way his skin and flesh had fused together, his helmet even having fused within that mess. She knew it was no wonder why he knew he would die but she was impressed at his toughness.

"The Dragonborn, this _Morgan Aurelius,_ has two adopted children and was sired into a vampire by a powerful necromancer Volkihar vampire. This vampire resurrected twenty corpses in one go during the battle."

That was impressive. Even their best necromancy wizards could only manage five or so.

"And your final piece of news, brave agent?"

"At the final stages of the battle, ten dragons joined the battle along with the Forsworn rebels. The dragons all shouted what seemed to be a title of sorts. They called the Dragonborn _Thur_."

She stared as Scout Dranis dipped his head one more time before he slumped to the ground, a pool of blood flowing from his spasming corpse.

 _She commands dragons?! An alliance with the Forsworn? Why did our other scouts and especially Thendril not inform me of these vital pieces of information? I will have him executed for this._

"Ensure he is given a proper rites, he was a loyal servant of the Dominion. Also enlist five more scouts into the higher tier of their training," she ordered to the nearest commander, who bowed and left the room the moment she had dismissed her.

She sighed and ran her fingers along the bridge of her nose for a moment and then felt the familiar stirring of anger within her. The loss of the Embassy, Elenwen and even her only daughter. Just how could one woman cause so much trouble? She had known that she was a low level threat while she had lived in Bruma.

Until Lilith Aurelius returned from wherever she had been hiding that is.

She swept from the Summons without a second glance, heading towards the Mystics Towers. If anyone had any further insight about this troublesome vampire, they would know more about it.

* * *

"Report."

Arch Magister Gundral snapped to attention the moment he heard the smooth voice behind him. Ensuring he never made full eye contact with Herself, he gave his report as succinct as he possibly could.

"My Liege, the Mystics have entered and returned from their forays within the spiritual realms with two casualties although one of them claimed he was within Sheogoraths realm, and has suffered a mental breakdown since. The other never returned."

She raised an eyebrow, impressed at the speed of the results. Gaining temporary access to the Daedric realms was no small feat and required many sacrifices. Luckily, the inferior races were plentiful in number and the Princes never seemed to take an interest in their probing missions.

"Mystics One through Eleven had no new information. Twelve to Sixteen however all reported many similarities."

"Such as?"

"This Dragonborn has seemingly been in contact with every single Prince within the last four years…"

"Just like the mysterious Champion of Cyrodiil," she muttered, nodding for him to continue despite her interruption.

"Indeed. Every Mystic all reported that this mortal has even managed to enter at least two realms in the flesh. Coldharbour and Moonshadow. It seems that she is also the current Champion of all but one Prince, the Prince of Domination."

She curled her lip at that monster and nodded again, wondering when he would inform her of the important news he claimed to have after only three days.

"It seems that the Princes haven't finished using her just yet, with Hermaeus Mora being especially secretive about her current status. No deal has ever been struck with him as you may be aware, yet a few souls within Apocrypha claim that Morgan Aurelius has read the Oghma Infinium…"

" _What!? How did she survive such a thing?!"_ She yelled before talking a calming breath.

"It seems she is being protected by his artefact in particular. The soups even claim that she has only just begun her 'true path'. The Mystic who entered that realm never returned, meaning that Mora may already know of her future and that he may even assist her."

Her mind was spinning. This woman was far too dangerous to let live now. That book was unlimited knowledge and if she ever managed to tap into that knowledge…she gave him a firm nod and walked out of the room, fingering the ring on her left index finger. The ring was a gift from the late Emperor, a signet ring that would open the locker rooms that had once held the Elder Scrolls in the White Gold Tower.

She recalled the last conversation they had shared.

" _The girl is a mystery, that is certain. Yet she remains docile and has even begun to listen to Lady Sulandril. I have no doubt that she will become a mighty weapon for your personal use. Her fighting styles and magical ability are impossible to teach to many people so if she were to vanish or expire…there is no telling what she could do."_

She scowled. The frail human had outwitted her. But time was on her side. Walking towards the Central Tower, she smiled as three human slaves and their mistress walked past her, the humans dropping to their knees in her wake.

The Thalmor would succeed, they always did.

* * *

 _Heljarchen House, The Pale, Skyrim…_

 _Thud. Thud._

Morgan Aurelius smiled as the two arrows found their mark, one striking the dummy in the chest, the other one in the throat. She giggled as she heard Aelas grumble of approval and when she saw just how pleased both her daughters were at the praise, she burst out laughing.

So loud in fact, that a flock of birds exploded out of the trees when her thu'um triggered.

Hearing a deep guffaw above her, Morgan glanced upwards to see the massive head of Odahviing peering down at the proceedings.

"I believe your mastery of the thu'um still requires practice, _Thuri._ "

"You want to feel Dragonrend again?" Morgan retorted with the sweetest voice she could manage.

Odahviing chuckled and dipped his head in amusement and the two of them glanced downwards to watch Aela and Jordis continue training her children.

She smiled. After so long fighting the wars for others, it felt so good to have some time for herself. Three whole months and finally, Skyrim seemed to be improving. Thousands had joined the new army of Skyrim. She smiled wider after that thought.

Elisif had announced out of the blue that Skyrim was now an independent state, free of the Empire. That had shaken the mind of every person within the land. And while a few were wary of her decision, even the most stubborn Nord accepted her ruling. It helped that Idgrod was now staying within Solitude and was acting as another advisor for the High Queen. Morthal was now an abandoned husk, and recent reports were that the swamp and the spiders had reclaimed the land.

Windhelm was also a prospering city although despite Jarl Nilsene Shatter-Shield's insistence that the old capital was free of the racism that had claimed the city for so long, it was still a primarily Nord city. Markarth was also booming and Forsworn attacks had stopped completely. The borders were now manned and an early warning system involving massive bonfires had been constructed.

Yet neither the Empire nor the Thalmor had budged. Rikke had been especially concerned and she had increased the training regiment numbers to staggering levels, and while many were farmers, a few of them were ex Legion commanders who had deserted the Empire years previously. Elisif had allowed them to stay but they had to serve until retirement age for their loyalty issues.

Morgan grinned.

 _That woman is not to be messed with now. Torygg will be proud of her._

Yet she was still concerned. The death of the puppet Emperor should have sent shockwaves throughout the Empire and the cessation from the Empire should have brought armies of the Empire and the Elves down on them. Yet there was no sign of any troop movement, according to Lucinda.

Lucinda and Lucien were now in Cyrodiil in the new Sanctuary, Deepscorn Hollow. Veezara's shade had gone with them, as had Festus, the two deceased Brotherhood members more than happy to leave Skyrim for a higher chance to kill the elves. They conversed within the Void every week and Lucinda had mentioned that Sheogorath had passed on a message that she was in danger, but that she should ensure that she should skip with the elven entrails for amusement.

Morgan fought the urge to giggle again, and glanced to her side as the door opened behind her and her love flopped onto her lap, cuddling her the moment she was comfortable.

" _My love_ ," Morgan whispered in the dragon tongue.

" _Little Dragon_ ," Serana returned, leaning down to capture Morgan's lips.

Morgan allowed her touch to put her mind at ease. They were safe for now, and any threat on her life would be coming from another province.

She hoped.

* * *

 _The Sea of Ghosts…._

Captain Gjolund Salt-Sage shuddered as the three strange passengers walked past him and vanished within their quarters once more. They had paid triple the gold rate for the journey from Raven Rock to Windhelm and they had been polite and never interfered with the ship's sailors duties.

Yet he could not shake the horrible sensation that always crawled down his spine every time these passengers walked by him. The masks were terrifying and the robes they wore seemed to be made from material that was ancient.

He shrugged and walked to his cabin, knowing that the men knew he would be informed of any issues. They paid well and they stayed quiet. He could live with that. Entering his cabin and closing the door behind him, he sighed heavily and sat down on the chair with a heavy thump.

He felt _drained._

A sweet smelling fragrance was planted on his face and he knew no more, falling into a deep sleep. He never heard the amused chuckle of the female masked passenger that let him fall to the floor. He never saw the locked chest holding the gold he had gained from them be opened and closed.

And he never knew that every sailor would meet the same fate, the vessel heading straight towards the land belonging to what their Lord referred to as 'The False One'.

Soon, the girl would die for her lies, and their Lord would arise once more.


	2. Chapter 2

**Daaaaamn, I never expected to get the reaction for this story :) Thirty or so faves for the opening chapter :O Thanks everyone who reads this (and for putting up with my abnormal updates XDDDDD)  
**

 **Just thought I would get this chapter out there before the holidays begin. Have a Happy Holidays and a fangtastic Christmas (yes, I did that XD) and hopefully this will whet your ravenous appetites for more Morgan bloodspilling...I mean, for more adventures :D**

* * *

"Fresh fruits and vegetables for sale! Freshly picked from the plains!"

"Baubles and trinkets! Necklaces and rings for sale! High quality and low prices!"

Morgan grinned as her two adopted daughters snorted at the claims. Serana had simply raised one slender eyebrow and ensured her arm was snug around Morgan's waist.

Whiterun was as busy as Morgan could ever recall. Dozens of citizens wove around the other as they scrambled for their purchases. The city guard were stationed at most of the vendors and a few of the newly created 'elite guard' that Jarl Balgruuf had created were positioned at the enticed, the archway that led to the Cloud District and Dragonsreach itself.

Morgan appraised the guards. The armour had more steel plate than the regular guard, the leather dyed white instead of the pale yellow. The blades they carried were Skyforge steel and were a foot longer in length. She nodded to the two closest and both elites thumped their fists against their chests in salute.

She sighed. She would never get used to anyone giving her that level of respect.

"Come on, we need to get to Jorrvaskr."

Morgan nodded to Serana's gentle prodding remark and the four of them continued to walk through the busy streets of Whiterun.

* * *

"Thank you for coming."

Morgan dipped her head respectfully at Kodlak Whitemane, who was lying on an elongated chair with two of the Temple healers in attendance.

She spent a moment to observe the man lying before her. He was a far different man than the one who had led Whiterun's scattered forces in retaking the city. The man lying before her was watching her with a calm and accepting expression, not a man who was facing death itself.

"Don't give me that look, girl. I'm not dead yet," Kodlak chuckled harshly.

Morgan smiled weakly.

"Having died twice now, I never faced it as calmly as you are doing," she replied quietly.

Kodlak chuckled again as he waved the healers away, before smiling at the two girls standing beside the Dragonborn. They had the same fire that their new mother had, that was certain.

"Lucia and Runa," Morgan introduced them.

"Aela has mentioned them on more than one occasion," Kodlak smiled. "For the Huntress to talk of someone with such respect is a great honour, young ones."

The girls beamed at him and he chuckled again softly.

"Do you mind if I talk to your mother alone, girls?"

The two girls nodded and Serana escorted them from the room, leaving the two of them alone. Morgan sat down on the offers seat and adjusted her long black dress before meeting the old mans gaze.

"You worry that you will never travel to Sovngarde," Morgan said after a moment.

The Harbinger smiled.

"And I never had to say a word. I can see why Aela and Farkas in particular admire you."

Morgan shrugged.

"I saw that look in the eyes of hundreds in Windhelm," Morgan replied quietly. "Every mortally wounded soul had that look. That uncertainty of what comes next. What will happen when you leave the mortal realm…"

She sighed.

"If only it were as simple as it could be."

He raised his eyebrows.

"You travelled the entirety of Skyrim within a few short years. You travelled to the afterlife of the Nords in the flesh, met the heroes of old. I envy you, girl."

Morgan grimaced.

"For you, it may come down to a choice," she said softly. "For me… I have every single Daedric Prince and possibly Akatosh himself claiming me when I die for good."

She met his piercing gaze again.

"And one other deity."

He nodded.

"What will come for us both us beyond us. We can only overcome when it happens."

She smiled.

"You would get on well with Paarthurnax."

He coughed before laughing, managing to sit upright.

"I ask for one thing before I meet my end."

"If I can do it, I will."

He smiled.

"Keep doing what you have done. Be a beacon of hope for the thousands that follow you. For the vast number that whisper your name in the lands beyond the borders. For the ones that tremble when your deeds reach the ears of those that prey on the innocent."

Kodlak Whitemane reached over and took one of Morgan's pale hands, not caring at how cold her skin was, not thinking of how no heartbeat could be felt.

"But most of all, keep being that innocent soul that did what needed to be done when none stepped up to save the lives of every soul in Tamriel. You may wish for the quest life yet we both know that as warriors, your adventures have only just begun."

Morgan found no words to respond with and she simply nodded.

* * *

"Let me guess. He told you what you didn't wish to hear?"

Morgan rolled her eyes as Aela approached, a rich green apple in her hand. The Huntress threw the fruit into the sky and caught it easily before taking a colossal bite before smirking at Morgan as she chewed.

"Kodlak and Paarthurnax talking is something I would want to avoid," Morgan managed after a few seconds of thought.

Aela barked in laughter and nodded as she took another bite.

"The Harbinger thinks his life is at an end. His wolf calls for him to retire to the Hunting Grounds of Hircine."

"Could think of worse fates," Morgan muttered, the image of Coldharbour flashing through her mind.

"The three of us who know him too well…myself, Farkas and Skjor have an idea. We will be away for a few weeks at the least."

Morgan stared at the young wolf.

"You plan on challenging Hircine? Interesting."

Aela blinked.

"I met him, remember? Sinding? Falkreath and the murders?" Morgan reminded her.

"You think he will punish us?"

Morgan shook her head.

"If anything, he will be impressed. He won't make it easy though. He will know what you are thinking of."

Aela nodded as she took one final bite before throwing the core over the nearest city wall.

"If it makes the old man happy, I am all for it. Besides, I am satisfied with my wolf so the idea of travelling into Hircines realm is something I am going to be ready for."

"You need any help?"

Aela smiled.

"For once, _Dovahkiin_ , this is a quest we can manage for ourselves. Besides, from what Lucia was telling me, you are going to Solitude for a grand opening of a museum."

Morgan shook her head.

"The Dragonborn Museum. Sometimes I wish Elisif told me what she has planned."

Aela chuckled.

"She's the High Queen, she can do what she likes. Besides, a museum dedicated to you is flattering. Imagine, a hundred years from now, your name will still be sung in taverns all over Skyrim if not further…"

Morgan stuck her tongue out at Aelas teasing.

"Don't fucking start, _wolf_."

Aela grinned at her.

"Wouldn't think of it, _Dovahkiin_."

Morgan glared as the slender figure sauntered past her, close enough that their shoulders brushed against each other as Aela passed.

 _Reminder to not be in public for a hundred years._

* * *

Lucia and Runa giggled as Farkas and Vilkas argued. They weren't sure what the argument was about, but the way that they continually shoved each other was highly amusing. Their fun was stopped when Serana gently but firmly escorted them away, a small smile on her face.

"Grown ups argue," Serana explained.

Lucia cocked her head to one angle.

"You and Mama never argue."

Serana smirked.

"Oh we do. Just not when you are awake."

Lucia stuck her tongue out and Serana playfully swatted the top of her hair.

"Hey, who are they?" Runa said as she pointed down the street.

Serana looked up and frowned as three figures made their way up the street towards them. She barely registered that Morgan had appeared beside her, such was the focus of her concentration.

The three figures were consisted of one female and two males, yet they all wore the same garb. Yellow and orange robes which had clearly seen better days, judging from the tears in the fabric. They had weapons sheathed and while she couldn't tell if they were steel or not, they were not high quality from the scent of rust coming from the weapons.

But it was the masks they wore that held her attention. She frowned as the three figures came closer, close enough that the masks came into sharp focus.

 _Tentacled masks? Creepy and definitely not local._

"Are you the one they call Dragonborn?" the female said in a raspy tongue, pointing at Morgan.

Morgan gently moved her children towards Aela before turning to face these three figures with a sense of alert running through her body. She was aware that the city guard and the elite guards were approaching but she knew that they wouldn't get here in time, the masses of the civilians slowing them down.

" _Zu'u Dovahkiin,_ " Morgan replied, her thu'um causing the ground to shake.

She was satisfied when the robed people staggered, she knew they were a threat and the masks were.. familiar somehow.

"Your words lie on deaf ears, _deceiver._ When Lord Miraak returns, the weak and unworthy shall be cleansed!"

Morgan moved before the first man had grabbed his blade. While she regretted she wasn't wearing her own weapon (a dress was not friendly to weapons after all), she didn't need one. Darting forwards, she thrust her hand out in a knife edged shape, her fingers digging into the unprotected throat. She effortlessly picked the wounded attacker up over her head before throwing him into the side of the nearest building, his neck snapping from the impact.

The woman had managed to free her dagger from its sheath but Serana had also been moving, and she has been armed with her dragonbone daggers. A second later, the weapons had been embedded into the attackers head, leaving one…

"For Lord Miraak!"

Morgan dodged the thrust, leaping into the air and landing on the mans shoulders. She snarled as she twisted her legs to one side, breaking the neck instantly. She jumped off the collapsing body and spat on the corpse.

" _What the fuck?!"_

Serana coiled an arm around her.

"I know you're upset but please…"

Morgan sighed as Serana's calming voice soothes the fire within her.

"For what it's worth. That last kill… In that dress…" Serana whispered in a sultry tone.

Morgan snorted.

"Later. I need to know who put my children's lives in danger."

Serana nodded as she released her dragon, watching as she expertly dug through the corpses for information. She noted that the guards were silent and made no move to stop or assist her.

 _A good thing, I have never felt such anger before._

Morgan had stood up and was snarling at a piece of parchment in her hands. After a few seconds of uncomfortable silence, Serana took the offered parchment and read the neat handwriting.

 _When you make landfall, make your way to the city of Whiterun. If the Deciever is not present, use any means necessary_ _to discover her whereabouts._

 _When she is found, teach her the errors of her ways but do not kill her. Anyone else is fair game for the teachings of Lord Miraak._

 _Do not fail. Lord Miraak is watching._

 _E_

Serana bared her fangs after reading and burned the paper in her hands, looking at Morgan, who was staring at the three corpses on the floor, black tendrils of smoke oozing from her skin pores.

"This _Miraak_ will pay for this."

Serana nodded as she wrapped her arms around the smaller woman.

"Let's make sure we have everything we need and ensure the children are safe before we leave."

Morgan managed a small smile.

"Good thing you are here… I don't think…"

Serana pressed a finger on Morgan's lips.

"We will sort this out. Together."

Morgan gave a firm nod and the two of them turned away from the carnage, ignoring the muttering crowd as they passed. Even as she embraced her children and held them close, the anger within her continued to fuel itself.

 _I need more answers than that note. Miraak… It reminds me of something but I cannot think of what. It even sounds ancient. Like Vahlok, that Dragon Priest…perhaps Paarthurnax will know._

She held her daughters a little tighter.

She wouldn't let anyone harm her children. This 'Miraak' had made a fatal mistake in attacking her directly. She would make sure he or she would pay for this. As would this 'E' who had sent them here.

She vowed it.

* * *

Paarthurnax fought the urge to flee as the Dragonborn explained the assault. He could sense her fury, her souls' demand for blood. He hadn't spoken to her for some time but it was clear she no longer followed the Way of the Voice. She was on her own path now, and from what he could sense, her path involved more blood than he wished to think about.

But when she uttered that accursed name, he found he could no longer be silent.

"That name is forbidden! None may speak of the Betrayer! NONE!" he bellowed, baring his teeth at the mortal standing before him.

"So you know of him." Morgan said quietly, the air thrumming as her thu'um shook the land and sky.

He flinched at how easily she used the weapons of the _dov_ so easily and brazenly. If he didn't know of the attack, she reminded him of Alduin all those years ago. She cared little for the innocent now, that much was clear.

"I will not speak of him, nor of his name. If you demand answers, _Dovahkiin,_ I cannot and will not give them."

Morgan narrowed her eyes.

"First the Greybeards tell me I have fallen too far and now you, Alduins' very own fucking brother no less, tells me he will not help me from protecting my children? You hypocritical fucking _LIZARD!"_

He did flinch now as her raw thu'um washed over him, scales peeling off his hide from the assault. But he would not tell her. One giant leap into the sky, he flew higher into the clouds and away from the bellowing roar of the second most devastating thu'um he had ever been on the receiving end of.

She was so much like Alduin, a far cry from the young warrior that had visited him six years ago.

 _Cowardly? Perhaps. But the Betrayer is so named because we cannot physically call him by his name. One day, I hope she finds this out before her rage consumes all._

He glanced to one side and was not surprised to see Odahviing keeping pace with him.

"She will learn the truth, Old One."

Paarthurnax couldn't help but chuckle.

"You still think she is in control of her soul?"

Odahviing nodded.

"You have never seen her anger in full. She is not angry at you or I. The Betrayer is gone and has been for some time. _Drem,_ patience, is what all of us need."

The older dragon chuckled again.

"I hope you are correct, young one. For all our sakes."

* * *

Morgan stopped yelling as the two dragons that she trusted the most flew out of sight. She was pissed off now. Serana holding her hand helped her regain control however and she leaned into the taller woman.

"We will figure this out. By ourselves if we must." Serana said after a moments pause.

Morgan sighed and simply stood there in Serana's embrace, the howling wind at the Throat of the World blowing her hair gently. She looked to the northeast, where Windhelm was situated.

 _Biggest port in Skyrim. Makes sense they would dock there. And Solstheim? I heard of the place when I was little. The BloodMoon. The Nerevarine._

Feeling Serana kiss the top of her hair made her feel better.

"So much for a quiet life."

Serana sniggered.

"We have the time. We find out who attacked you, tear their heads off, come back and watch our children grow up."

Morgan smiled.

 _Miraak. I am coming for you._


	3. Chapter 3

**So sorry for the wait! I get sidetracked way too easy! I blame Mass Effect Andromeda...and Skyrim...and Fallout 4...and Xcom2...**

 **Anyway, enough excuses. I have Chapter 4 around 60% written so hopefully I shall get that released soon.**

 **Hope it was worth the wait, I really need to pull my finger out and get some serious writing done...**

* * *

High Queen Elisif the Fair stared out at the vista before her, her hands clasped tightly in front of her stomach. She paused to nod at the concerned visage of Thane Bryling before looking back to the view. From her vantage point, the air was clear enough for her to easily see the Shrine of Meridia, and even the burned out husk of the Thalmor Embassy.

"Three months or so and still no sign. What are they waiting for?' Elisif said after a moment.

Bryling thought carefully before answering. She admired the change that the young Queen had adopted but she was much more wary of which words she chose to say around her. She did not wish to make an enemy of the Dragonborn after all.

"Perhaps the defences that Rikke has managed to set up? Even the Thalmor would think twice of open warfare against a manned border. They have no knowledge of our army numbers."

Elisif smiled.

"They have the numbers to wipe us all out within a month. The last reports told of at least two battalions amassed within Cyrodiil. And while there seems to be a small resistance forming, the Thalmor wouldn't bring a second army to a place that holds no real threat to their power base."

Bryling couldn't help but smile. The Queen had been attending every meeting with the veteran Rikke and it seemed that Elisif was learning the art of war at a rapid rate.

"Perhaps the dragons and the Forsworn?" Bryling said after a few seconds of quiet thought.

Elisif nodded.

"A possibility. Although Morgan has explained multiple times that the dragons only fight for her either from respect or fear of her. And while they may attack the elves out of curiosity I doubt we can rely on them as a permanent deterrent. As for the Forsworn…"

Elisif brushed a few strands of golden hair from her face and smirked at Bryling.

"Jarl Shea has done extremely well in keeping the peace as well as keeping the western borders safe, yet she admitted she knows nothing of the duties of being Jarl, nor that of fighting a long war with anyone."

"Sounds familiar," Bryling smiled.

Elisif chuckled.

"I did have help."

Bryling nodded. She knew what the queen would ask about next, and she was ready for the query.

"Heard anything from Morgan since?..."

Bryling managed to not sigh.

"Nothing. From what the last patrol reported, the Dragonborn still resides at her home. And she was apparently curious and a little reserved about hearing of the museum being opened in her honour."

Elisif laughed now, feeling lighter than ever.

"I would wager a few dozen swear words were uttered as well."

Bryling snorted.

"Yet that was over a week ago. I believe Legate Hadvar is due to report in later this evening, perhaps he may know more."

Elisif nodded. She knew of the young man that served the Empire very well. Rikke had promoted him and had him running all over Skyrim, performing duties only for the upper echelon of Skyrims army.

"He is a friend of Morgan. It would have been nicer if she had told me if she was coming or not."

Bryling smiled again.

"You know how she replies to most letters. From what one of her daughters once told you, she incinerates most letters addressed to her after reviewing hundreds of marriage proposals after the war was ended."

Elisif laughed again at the memory. Lucia was the most honest child she had ever talked to.

"Let me know when Hadvar arrives. I have some ideas to ensure the Thalmor army struggles to enter Skyrim from the southern borders."

Bryling nodded and simply watched as the Queen walked away in a swish of skirts. She breathed out a sigh of relief and looked out at the waters far below her. Making a mental note to construct a few safety rails along the pathway, she walked away from the back garden of the Dragonborn Gallery, her mind racing.

The Thalmor would come, she was certain of it. The only question was how soon they would arrive.

* * *

Hadvar paused at the small pathway before him. He noted the twelve soldiers that stood behind him were fidgeting and in two cases, were shaking slightly.

"You have nothing to fear from her ."

The soldiers straightened up but he could still see the fear in their eyes.

 _Can you blame them? She punched Ulfric Stormcloaks head into oblivion._

He hadn't been there at the time, Rikke had given him orders to flank around the south when the battle had started. By the time the three hundred strong makeshift army had gotten there, the battle was over and Ulfric had been obliterated in one savage strike.

Hadvar shrugged. The Dragonborn's home seemed quiet enough. Minus the gigantic white wolf that sat on the doorstep of course.

"She won't bite."

Hadvar managed to not jump when that soft voice cut through the cold air. From the clattering sound behind him, he knew that more than one soldier had done just that.

She looked angry, he noted. She was standing at the doorstep, her hand resting on the wolfs head, her eyes boring into his. Hadvar swallowed and moved forwards, stopping when they were six feet away.

 _That wolf! It's gigantic!_

"Nice to see you again, Hadvar."

He nodded.

"Likewise. Um…you seem a little tense, my friend…" he stammered.

Morgan snorted.

"Three fanatics attacked us and came close to harming my daughters. I was just due to head out and wipe out another pest infestation."

Hadvar blinked.

"How? And where?!"

"Whiterun centre," Morgan replied, small tendrils of black magic oozing from her armour seams.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" He asked, his previous fear forgotten.

Morgan gave him a small smile which put him and his soldiers a little more at ease.

"Kindly let the High Queen I will be delayed. I shall return when the bastard responsible has a severe case of head removal."

Hadvar had never seen his friend so upset. He did note that the air was colder than it had been all day though. He filed that piece of knowledge away and nodded.

"I wish you all the best my friend. Good hunting."

Morgan nodded and she walked back inside her home, the wolf trailing behind her. The second the doors closed, Hadvar winced as most of the soldiers behind him began to vomit. He sighed.

High Queen Elisif wouldn't be completely thrilled by this outcome, but what could he do about it? If there was one thing he was sure of, it was the person responsible for the personal attack on the Dragonborn would surely regret the action.

He just hoped that no innocents would get caught in the crossfire.

* * *

Morgan sighed as she watched the detachment of soldiers leave the premises, Had are patting a few backs as they walked. She did feel slightly guilty for scaring what were clearly new recruits, but it wasn't as if she should be feeling calm at a time like this.

She hugged the two children sitting on her lap and closed her eyes.

 _I have to do this. They are upset I will be away from home for at least a few weeks but if they are to remain safe, I need this Miraak to focus on me. With Aela away, only Jordis and my mother are here._

"I'll be back soon. Then we can spend more time together… Maybe even teach you the first word of Unrelenting Force?" Morgan teased, knowing that Runa in particular was eager to try and learn how to Shout.

Her two adopted daughters embraced her tighter and Morgan smiled. They understood what she was doing. And that hardened her resolve more than anything.

* * *

"Windhelm. Still a shithole," Morgan muttered under her breath.

Serana smirked as she kept her arm wrapped around her little dragon.

"What did you expect?"

Morgan sighed.

"I guess… I _hoped_ that maybe the city itself has changed in some ways. But everything is worse. No Argonians, Dunmer or any other race. Ulfric is probably pissing his sides laughing at me now, the prick."

Serana rolled her eyes and ensured her hood was still shrouding her face. They had both agreed that any interaction with the locals was to be avoided as much as possible. Many people had been fond of Ulfric after all.

"Great. Not ruined my life enough have you?"

 _Wonderful. Had to open your big fucking mouth._

Morgan slowly turned around and ensured she was out of sight of the majority of the citizens before lowering her hood and meeting the gaze of the person who had spoken. Or more specifically, the small child that was glaring at her with a venomous snarl in her voice.

"I lost everyone I knew. The dockworkers were my main source of income AND friendship. I lost the few traders that tolerated me and even gave me gold when I helped them here and there," Sofie snarled as she limped closer, throwing her tattered flower basket to the ground.

Morgan blinked and stood still as the angry child vented.

"And THEN, the new Jarl declared that because I no longer have any adult supervision, I am to report to the orphanage in Riften later this evening until I am old enough. I _hate you! I hate you! I hate…._ "

Her words were cut off when she was enveloped in a gentle embrace, the sweet smell of nightshade invading her nostrils. Sofie wasn't aware she was crying and she clung to the one person she idolised and hated. She had nothing else after all.

"I'm sorry. I didn't realise you would suffer so much," Morgan whispered softly. "I was foolish enough to believe that Ulfric was just one problem to be fixed. I know that many of the dockworkers moved to Riften and Solitude but I assumed they would have taken you with them."

"The city…the fighting…" Sofie sniffled.

"Something I never thought would have happened but I should have expected it. But I can at least get you somewhere safe. And it's not Riften orphanage."

Sofie blinked away tears.

"But where can I go? I don't have the gold for Solitude."

Morgan smiled.

"Serana? Could you take Sofia to the stables? And ask the stable master for an instant trip to Solitude for one person?"

Serana smiled and gently took the child's hand, ignoring her rapid heartbeat.

"And when you get to Solitude, head to the orphanage and give this to Constance. Enough payment to last you until you are of age."

Sofie stared as two flawless emeralds were pressed into her free hand.

"One is for the payment. The other is for you to buy clothing and anything else that will help you settle in. I apologise for what I have put you through, Sofie. I hope that one day, you can forgive me."

Sofie knew her lips were trembling but she managed to utter a soft 'thank you' before being escorted away. She glanced up at the taller woman that held her hand and managed not to scream when the golden eyes met hers.

"There's a lot you don't know about her, little one. But one day, I know that she will seek you out and ensure that you are being taken care of."

"Promise?"

Serana smiled and squeezed the small hand.

"Promise"

The two of them walked for a moment before Sofie spoke again.

"Why is she asking you to take me?"

Serana smiled again.

"In her own words, it would be to 'make sure that the stable master doesn't give you any….well, you get the idea."

Sofie smiled and made sure she held the emeralds tightly. She had been given a second chance, and she wasn't going to waste it.

* * *

Captain Gjalund Salt-Sage threw the hammer to the deck and stood up. Wiping his hands on his trousers, he turned around and met the person who had spoken so rudely to him. It wasn't often that he was asked to 'stop pretending to work and explain yourself' very often.

His bravado fled when the golden eyes stared into his soul. The Dragonborn was as beautiful as he recalled, having met her years ago. Vampirism hadn't managed to hide the unnatural gaze she now had, however.

He suddenly found himself slammed against the mast, the small woman pinning him against the wood with a single hand. As if that wasn't bad enough, her voice was calm, quiet.

"You came from Solstheim, correct?"

He was aware that the ten sailors around them made no move to intervene, and he was thankful for their restraint.

"Aye. Returned a few days ago."

"With three people dressed in ragged robes? Tentacled masks?"

He nodded.

"Take me to Solstheim."

"The boat isn't ready…"

"Really? So why have three other boats left within the day? According to the East Empire trafficker, your boat has stayed here since you returned," Morgan said softly, tilting her head.

"And why would I do this?"

The Dragonborn smiled, her fangs now visible.

"The three passengers you had? They attacked me and nearly harmed my daughters. People who get involved with my business in a negative way usually don't get the chance to make things right. This is your only chance, Captain."

He thought about that for a few seconds. Truth be told, he was angry at not having been paid for the voyage. He and his sailors had been knocked out, the gold all taken. As if reading his mind, the Dragonborn produced three red rubies from a pocket and placed them into the chest pocket of his shirt.

"That's for the trip there. When we return and are back in Windhelm, you and your sailors get enough riches to retire early. Deal?"

He had no idea who was dumb enough to turn down an offer like that, but he wasn't stupid. Besides, he had payback for the person who had sent the three thieves onto his ship to steal from him, let alone attack the one person who should be left alone.

"We will cast off within the hour."

He was glad when he was released and the small vampire gave him a chilling smile.

"Thank you, Captain."

He nodded and walked past her, breathing out hard. He recalled a town guard in the tavern the night before talking about the Dragonborn. The way the young man stammered and constantly looked over his shoulder was now understandable to him. Then he patted the rubies in his pocket.

Well, she was true to her word so far. Early retirement? Sounded good to him. He glanced back and shuddered as the Dragonborn stood at the edge of the ship, her diminutive fingers clenching the wood tightly enough to bend the wood slightly.

 _That guard has no idea. This woman makes a dragon look like a harmless mud crab and she hardly said anything. Talos help us if someone turns her against us…_

* * *

Serana looped an arm around Morgan's waist and smiled as the ship broke into the open water, the city of Windhelm disappearing in the snowy swirls. She ensured her hood covered her face as usual and spent a moment to gather her thoughts. As expected, Morgan spoke up first.

 _My little dragon hates the silence after all. Lucia is a crafty one, she told me otherwise._

"Can the ship go faster?"

"It's not a dragon, my love. Besides, enjoy the sea air."

Serana grinned as Morgan let out an unladylike snort which to her keen hearing, sounded very much like 'dragon shit' and pulled Morgan a little closer.

"Three days until we reach Solstheim," Serana remarked. "With a little luck, we can wrap this up and be back within two weeks."

Morgan nodded.

"The issue is that neither of us have been there. With no allies that we know of. That means we are pretty much on our own this time."

"You were alone when you came to Skyrim and you turned out alright…well, _mostly_ alright," Serana amended with a grin.

Morgan snorted again.

"Just remember who woke you up."

Serana laughed now.

"Let's just focus on what we do know."

"Some prick attacked me and thinks it's a good thing to put my daughters in harms way. Then he or she is dumb enough to leave a trail for me to follow. It may be this 'Miraak's' home but it won't stop me from pulling his spine out through his fucking mouth."

Serana shook her head.

"Remind me to not ask you for writing a biography," she chuckled.

She was pleased when Morgan giggled low enough for her to hear.

Serana stood there for another moment and then pulled Morgan into her embrace, ignoring the sailors who occasionally stared at them. Running a hand through the long black hair of her love, she smiled down at the smaller woman.

"We will be back with our family before we know it."

Morgan nodded before capturing Serana's lips with hers, feeling their blood bond surge through her. Nothing would stop her, no matter what Miraak or Solstheim would throw at her. She had Serana at her side after all. She was her rock in a maelstrom of chaos.

She just wished everyone else would stop causing the chaos in the first place and leave her alone, she had surely done enough now.

She also hoped that Miraak was some random idiot and not someone with an agenda.

 _First time for everything._

She smiled as they parted and the two vampires stared at the waves around them, oblivious to the sailors that scurried around them. With a little luck, she could finish her business within a few days.


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: Thanks for the feedback everyone, hope this chapter was worth the wait :)  
**

* * *

"Raven Rock," Captain Gjalund Salt-Sage muttered as he steered the ship towards the destination that the Dragonborn had _persuaded_ him to travel to. "Can't say I am overly glad to see this place again."

Morgan fought the urge to roll her eyes and simply looked at this strange new place. The ship voyage had only taken three days, two faster than she had anticipated. While she knew that the good Captain had increased his speed to receive his payment faster, she didn't begrudge him for it. Too many people used greed as their primary motivator after all.

She wasn't fond of the ash, that was for sure. She had heard that the massive volcano in Morrowind was still erupting even after centuries, but even she had to blink at just how much ash was being deposited on Solstheim. The more she thought about it, the more she understood that it was only because of the weather blowing away from Skyrim that was keeping the ash falling in this one place.

 _Not my problem, I have enough to deal with._

But she had to admit that Raven Rock really was a place that had hit rock bottom, only to fall through a mine pit afterwards. The massive thirty foot wall was impressive however. She raised an eyebrow when she noted several arrow shafts buried in the structure, along with spears and even a few broken sword blades.

"They get attacked this often?" She asked, pointing to the weapons.

Gjalund shrugged.

"I haven't seen anything that attacked with those weapons, its usually the ash spawn and they always fight bare handed. No, these attacks were likely Reavers. Bandits,"he clarified when he saw Morgan's clueless expression.

Morgan nodded.

"Fantastic. And it looks like I have a welcoming committee," she muttered, squeezing Seranas hand gently.

Serana nodded.

"Most likely the town leader," the ancient vampire agreed as the boat docked into the pier, three sailors jumping off to fasten the ropes to the shore.

"Gjalund. I wasn't expecting you to return. I thought that you were having issues with your vessel," the Dunmer said as he walked along the pier, his eyes fixed on the Captain.

"Aye, had a little trouble with the East Empire Company in Windhelm. It's all fixed now however,"Gjalund replied before nodding to Morgan, who had ensured her hood hid her pale features, Serana following suit. "I also picked up two passengers on a business venture."

The Dunmers eyes shifted to the two women dressed in black, the cloaks shimmering with numerous enchantments that he couldn't begin to recognise.

"Councilor Morvayn. On behalf of Raven Rock and the House of Redoran, I bid you welcome," he said, bowing to the two women as they stepped ashore.

He took a moment to appraise these new arrivals. One was tall, a full two inches taller than himself. He couldn't see her face, although the smooth cheekbones and the calm pose she had adopted showed that this woman was relaxed. He did catch a glimpse of two daggers attached to her hips, the dark hilts made of ebony, an ore not seen in Raven Rock in years. The blades were something else, however. A light grey colour, similar to bone but it seemed more sturdy.

The other woman was a different story. She was much shorter, a clear foot than the taller woman. But her jawline was fixed into what could only be described as tight. Her blade was a good five feet long, with the sharpest edge and tip he could ever recall.

"Thank you, Councilor. We will be out of here as fast as possible, once our business is concluded," the shorter woman said softly.

The Councilor shivered at how soft that voice was. Yet even he could sense that there was steel in that voice as well. A warrior, perhaps a mercenary?

"Perhaps it would be better to speak our business indoors, away from prying eyes?"

The two women exchanged glances and nodded.

"Excellent. Gjalund, I shall ensure your ship is repaired and reprovisioned. Feel free to visit the tavern, after such a long trip?"

He nodded to the captains grunted affirmation and he motioned to the two women to follow him, four guards falling into step behind them. He had a feeling that he may need the support once they were indoors.

* * *

Morvayn motioned for the visitors to sit down, glancing at the guards to stand at the doors before sitting down himself. He took a deep breath and looked at the smaller woman.

"May I see your faces so I know who I am dealing with?"

"Of course, Councilor. I only ask that no weapons are brought to bear once we do. We wish harm on no-one here in your city."

He snorted.

"You are kind to call this place a city, but fine. As Head Councilor of Raven Rock, you have my word that as long as you make no aggressive motions, you shall not be harmed."

His breathing stopped as the shorter woman pulled her hood back.

 _Beautiful._

Then he saw the eyes, the two burning irises that bored into his very soul.

"A better reaction than most," the taller woman remarked with an amused grin as she pulled off her hood.

 _Teeth elongated, at least four. Pale skin, no hint of fear or nervousness on their faces._

"What... how did you..."

"Captain Gjalund agreed to take us here once he realised a previous group of passengers cheated him of his gold and made the mistake of attacking this particular person," one _vampire_ explained. "And calm your heart, we gave you our word."

"The three robed people? I had forgotten about them for some reason."

"They used magic, something old. Maybe older than I am, and that is saying something."

"I find that hard to believe, although it has been decades since I met one of your... _kind._ You said they attacked you? And why was that such a grave mistake, my lady?"

He shivered when the smaller woman smiled at him. It was like a smile from the depths of Oblivion.

"Its nice to not be recognised. In fact, I..."

Her words were cut off when the door was barged open, and a swirl of smoke blew into the house, followed by a sputtering Redoran guard, his yellow bone-like armour singed and smoking from what Morgan knew was dragonfire.

"Tell you what, let me deal with the dragon and then we can finish this chat, yes?"

Morvayn was unable to reply as the two vampires vanished in the blink of an eye. He stood up and nodded to the guards.

"Make sure the townsfolk are safe and then assist in downing the dragon!" he commanded.

He was pleased that none of the guards stopped to ask questions and followed his orders. He took a deep breath, the visage of that smile burned into his mind.

 _This woman. Who is she?!_

* * *

"That could have gone better," Morgan snarled as she pulled her blade free, her senses already telling her where the dragon was.

Serana nodded as she pulled one dagger free, the other hand charging with electricity.

"At least he didn't attack us."

"Give it time," Morgan replied sarcastically. "I give him an hour before he starts panicking."

"Let's get rid of the dragon first," Serana suggested with a grin.

The deafening roar shattered the sky and Morgan tackled a guard out of the way, a second before a swath of fire blasted through the place where she had been. Morgan looked down at the guard under her, aware of the position and the fact that a fast beating heart was driving her close to feeding. She fought the urge and smirked at her, not letting her fangs appear.

"Watch where you're going, could have been a dragon landing on top of you."

Morgan jumped off and grinned as the dragon made another pass, heading right towards her.

 _Well, he didn't recognise me so that means he won't expect this._

 _"_ **JOOR ZAH FRUL!** "

She snarled in satisfaction as her Dragonrend Shout slammed into the dragon, the mighty beast falling out of the sky and colliding with the cliff face with a shattering force. She ignored the few cheers that went up as she accelerated through the idiots that had come out of their homes, and leapt onto the dragons back.

" **YOL!** "

Morgan ducked the flames and gave him a Shout of her own, putting as much venom as she could into it.

 _Fucking Greybeards with their passiveness. They have no idea of the strength I carry. Foolish joors._

 **"YOL TOOR SHUL!** "

Her dragonfire enveloped the now shrieking dragons face, scales and flesh peeling off form the force of her thu'um. She noted that the dragons eyes locked onto hers despite the agony and she knew that the dragon had finally seen her for who and _what_ she was.

 _"Dovahkiin..."_

Morgan drove her blade through the creatures right eye socket before twisting it and pulling it free in one fluid movement. An instant kill. She stood there and absorbed her fallen foes soul, feeling a new form of strength enter her mind, along with an understanding of this strange land she was in.

 _A land of ash, hidden treasures lost to time. An ancient enemy returning after thousands of years, hidden by a shadow that cast over the land. A group of humans living in the north, few in number yet so resilient against the shadow, knowing that they were doomed to fail. An ancient wizard conducting experiments that were dangerously close to unravelling the world. And two creatures of the night, bringing a fresh wave of death and destruction to the land..._

Morgan fought the urge to vomit blood everywhere after the memories had subsided and hopped off the skeletal remains of the dragon, smiling at Serana as she approached.

"Too slow, my love."

Serana chuckled.

"While you were having a nice conversation with your fellow dragon there, I was making sure that no-one tried to intervene with arrows. I blocked most of them, but a few did get through," she explained, nodding to the bones.

Morgan did note that a few arrows were indeed embedded in the bones and she gave Serana a sheepish grin.

"Alright fine, maybe you did a bit of work then."

Serana rolled her eyes and adjusted her hood before turning around, sighing when the guards and townsfolk still held weapons in clenched hands, hearts beating too fast from fear and excitement, blood roaring through veins so close she could _taste it._

She bit her lip, placing a consoling hand on Morgan's wrist, knowing that she was feeling the same urges.

"You... what did you do?!"

"The flesh, skin, muscle, organs... all gone. Nothing but bones... "

Morgan raised an eyebrow as another Dunmer pushed past the group of people and walked right up to the skeleton, his orange and red robes untouched by fire, smoke or anything else that Morgan could discern.

"Nothing but the bones and scales. Most of the creature vanished into a formation of energy, which then was absorbed by you... "

Morgan crossed her arms as the strange figure walked over to her, his eyes fixed on hers with no fear or doubt.

"The dragon brought down by one form of magic I have not seen in person, but the studies were lost to time, since the Dragon War. Interesting."

Morgan sighed.

"A deadly use of a crafted blade ended the life of the creature. A solitary attack killing the dragon almost instantly, even after the effect of fire consuming the body while it was still alive. Akaviri fighting style, yes?"

Morgan blinked now.

"How did... "

"A combination of that fighting style, coupled with the use of magic formed only by the use of your own voice, there is only one conclusion... " he continued, not bothered by Morgans snarl of frustration. He turned to face her again, noting how the taller person beside her was standing in a protective manner, yet her mannerisms showing that this woman was clearly not of her time.

"The infamous Dragonborn," he finished with a grin.

Morgan muttered the foulest curse words in d _ovahzul_ as the crowd erupted with cheers, boos, insults and even death threats. She glared at the Dunmer, who was still looking at her with an appraising eye and narrowed her eyes.

" _Thank you,_ " she told him sarcastically in the dragon tongue, her thu'um shaking the ground slightly.

" _You are welcome,_ " he replied in perfect _dovahzul_ , a smug expression appearing on his face.

Morgan scowled and pushed past the old dark elf and through the parting crowd as the guards began to disperse the locals. Serana held Morgans hand tightly as a few cabbages and an assortment of fruit and random objects were hurled at them.

"Great. A psychotic 'Miraak', a dragon attack within the first hour of landing here, a sarcastic smart arse of a Dunmer and a bunch of vampire fearing, Stormcloak fucking idiots as townsfolk," Morgan rallied off, booting a cabbage hard enough that it exploded into shreds and pelting a dozen sneering locals in doing so.

"Aside, from the Stormcloak reference, I agree with you," Serana replied, blocking a melon thrown at her with a ward spell and smirking at her would be attacker. "Let's just get indoors while we plan our next move."

Morgan nodded, her mind ablaze with options.

 _Talk with the Councilor... if he still wants to converse at least, and then see what can be done._

* * *

Councilor Morvayn liked to think of himself as a patient man, but even he had to admit that the events of the day was enough to bring even the most patient mortal to the brink of madness. The master wizard and his questions about books and the Stones was bad enough, the relentless complaints and counter complaints coming from the loan shark, Mogrul and his 'loanees' were becoming an annoyance. And now the Dragonborn herself had come to these shores.

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment, ignoring the two _vampires_ sitting not three feet away from him. Even with twelve guards all crammed into his own home, he didn't feel even remotely safe. Ever since the dreams had started...

He opened his eyes again and placed his still full goblet of wine on the end table before meeting the twin pairs of burning eyes with as much courage as he could muster. While the events of Skyrim did not completely impact Raven Rock and the economy, the stories coming from that cold land had generated a mass influx of visitors, all eager to see a glimpse of the mysterious warrior that was sitting calmly opposite him.

"I never would have expected the Dragonborn herself to land here. Most believed you a myth at best."

Morgan snorted, ignoring the shifting of the guards surrounding her.

"Believe me, if it hadn't taken an assassination attempt, I wouldn't have come here at all. Fucking ash everywhere, makes the Sea of Ghosts look like a paradise."

"Yes, quite," Morvayn agreed, a ghost of a smile appearing for a second. "So you can appreciate the _difficult_ position that I, and by extension, _you_ , find yourself in. Most citizens have only the tales of your kind to hear of. The monsters of the night, the food that sustains you."

"Yes, and the muggings and regular murders that mortals engage in are _so_ different," Morgan retorted, meeting his unflinching gaze with her own. "I haven't been a vampire long, you know. A few years. But in that time, I have seen how fickle that mortals can truly be. Defeating the World Eater wasn't enough. Killing a megalomaniac vampire lord hell bent on total domination of the mortal plane wasn't enough."

Morgan paused.

" _And I am guessing that killing the prick who attacked me and nearly killed my daughters will not be enough either._ "

Serana placed a hand over Morgans and she calmed down a little.

"if you could just tell me what you may know about 'Miraak' and we will be gone faster than that of Ulfric Stormcloak's brain matter after he pissed me off. You have my word, Councilor."

He had heard a little of the battle of Windhelm of course, but the death of Ulfric Stormcloak had sent shockwaves through the provinces and especially Raven Rock. A few hundred of Stormcloak survivors had found their way here after the war and had entered the society here and praying that the Dragonborn wouldn't follow.

"I am not callous enough as to suggest you leave, but the people here are not used to... well, you know what I am implying."

Morgan nodded.

"I don't blame them for their misplaced fear. When I met Serana for the first time, we did fight after all."

"You Shouted me into a wall," Serana pointed out with a wry grin.

Morvayn glanced at the way that the two women held hands and he sighed. He couldn't throw them out, no matter who they were;. At the same time, he couldn't guarantee their safety, nor that of any of the locals.

"You met Master Neloth, yes?"

"Prick," Morgan muttered under her breath.

Serana nodded.

"Yes, he was very _enthusiastic_ once he figured out who we were. Why do you ask, Councilor?"

"While I cannot recall why I know about this _Miraak_ , I can tell you that Master Neloth is well versed in the dealings of the unknowns within Solstheim. And perhaps he may give you an idea of where to start looking."

"And getting us out of the city and stopping the people from rioting or worse," Morgan added, smirking at the surprised expression on Morvayns face. "I grew up around politics, Councilor, I know how this game is played. Where is the almighty Neloth right now?"

"He was last seen at the Earth Stone," one of the helmeted guards grunted out.

"Just southwest of here. You can see it from pretty much anywhere from within Raven Rock,"Morvayn supplied. "We have had some odd things occurring here recently and Master Neloth arrived within hours after it started... curious."

"What kind of strange?" Morgan asked.

"At least six of the Redoran guard and another five citizens of Raven Rock have been building some sort of construction around the Stone within the last week. They do not sleep, or eat. We have had volunteers force feed them food while they work. None of the Temple healers have been able to do anything, and when one of the guard tried to forcibly remove one of them away from the Stone, the others beat him to the point where he will never stand on his own feet again," Councilor Morvayn explained.

Morgan and Serana exchanged a nod and they stood up, ignoring the shuffling of the guards around them.

"Thank you, Councilor. May Azura bless you with the Dawn."

Morvayn felt the blood drain from his face as the Dragonborn produced Azura's Star from her armour and gave him a smile.

"if you thought the shit going on here was bad, pray that you never have to put up with what I have,"Morgan said solemnly before vanishing into the Void with Serana in tow.

Councilor Morvayn barely managed to reach the bucket before he vomited into it.

He was _not_ having a good day.

* * *

 **AN: as many of my regular readers would tell you, I generally don't do the 'canon' conversations like in game. Anyway, hope you enjoyed the chapter, feel free to leave a comment or PM, I will try to reply as as many as I can :D**


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: here ya go! :D**

* * *

"Charming place," Serana remarked as they exited the Councilor's home, barely glancing at the guards who were failing at trying to shadow them.

She couldn't blame them for being fearful and suspicious. She had gotten used to it. Her little dragon on the other hand...

"Stop. Fucking. Following. Us," Morgan hissed at them before walking slightly faster.

Serana couldn't help but grin as they backed away, still following them but at a much larger distance. She didn't give any of the local any attention as they walked through the centre of Raven Rock. A few of the more daring folk spat curses at the two of them however, and Serana ensured she had Morgan's hand gently gripped in hers as they walked.

"Huh. Figures you would come here, looking for more coin. Well, I have news for ya', there isn't any gold for the likes of you," a gruff voice called out from their left side.

Morgan sighed as a massive orc walked through the crowds, closely followed by a figure dressed in what looked like lobster armour. She bit her lip as various jokes shot through her mind and focused on the huge orc that had stopped five feet from her.

The orcish armour that he wore was full of dents and scratches, a sign that he had at least some idea of what battle was. The glass mace strapped to his right thigh however, looked brand new. As did the almost regal-like clothing she could see beneath the bulky armour. Morgan inhaled deeply, finding various scents that didn't interest her.

 _A bully of some sort. Likes gold more than anything else. Another Madanach-like prick to deal with._

"Mogrul, gold 'banker', at your service. Don't bother with your name, I know who you are."

"Good for you, you can read," Morgan replied tartly, causing the lobster-armoured man to stiffen upright and clutch at his blade.

"Slitter. Enough. The fool girl doesn't know who she is dealing with."

Morgan grinned, her fangs catching the weak sunlight just enough that anyone within twenty feet could see the sharpened incisors.

"Compared to a _god_ like Alduin, you aren't worth messing my blade with blood, _orc_. Now run along with your lobster man and get out of my way."

She had to give him a little credit for staying put, but she could easily see how his muscles tensed up, and could also hear his blood pumping faster through his massive body in preparation for a fight.

"Mogrul. The Dragonborn has business to deal with. Councilor Morvayn's orders,"a guard spoke up as he walked past the two vampires and stepped a mere foot away from the orc, who towered over him.

Mogrul grinned wickedly at the much smaller guard before stomping off with Slitter close behind him. The guard turned to Morgan and removed his helmet, grimacing at what had just happened.

"You may want to deal with Neloth quick and get out of Raven Rock while you still can, outlander," he muttered as the crowds began to disperse. "Mogrul has a history of, well, _violence._ "

The smile that the Dragonborn gave him had as much warmth as the Sea of Ghosts in winter.

"He isn't the only one. Thanks for the help."

He held his hand out.

"Celyn Morvas, Redoran Guard."

"Morgan. This is Serana. Two vampires on a quest to rip someone's spine out," Morgan replied with a grin as she shook his hand. "Is that orc going to be a problem?"

"I hope not, the obnoxious bastard has had his hands in very shady dealings in Raven Rock for at least the last ten years. But he has connections. A few even think the Morag Tong," Celyn explained.

Morgan grimaced. Two assassin guilds in one place. Not ideal.

"So he's sneaky prick and the law cannot get rid of him. Wonderful."

Celyn grinned. He liked her already.

"Just stay clear of the oaf, I shall keep an eye on him. Just go about your business and I will try and keep the civilians clear while you do what you need to do."

Morgan smiled at him, a genuine smile this time.

"Thank you. Stay safe Celyn."

He rose an eyebrow.

"I am hardly in any danger my lady."

"You weren't. Until I came along. Come on my love, I want to deal with Neloth as fast as possible."

He blinked as Serana patted his shoulder as she passed, and continued to stare at nothing in particular for the next two minutes as her words reverberated through his mind. When his brain caught up, the Dragonborn had gone. And the air suddenly seemed to drop in temperature as he walked back to the barracks. It was turning into one of those days.

* * *

Neloth felt their presence before he even turned around to acknowledge them. The ancient vampire was all too easy to identify. Her mannerisms earlier were from a time long before the race of men were commonplace across the continent. The way she stood, the way she looked at him, identifying any weaknesses were the signs of someone who had been given a thorough education. The other one was much harder to identify.

It was as though she had put up an invisible barrier between her and the world. As of she were looking at the world as though time itself was merely an irritation. Making a mental note to ask the two of them at a later date of their backgrounds, he finally turned around and smiled as they approached.

As expected, the tall vampire was scrutinizing him, her sharp eyes looking at him from a purely academic standpoint. He was liking the ancient one already. But the Dragonborn was looking past him, at the structure standing behind him. Feeling a little irritated that he didn't have her full attention, he cleared his throat.

Those twin burning eyes snapped onto his as though they were guided by magelight. She never blinked, never flinched. The silent stand off lasted for a minute before the ancient vampire spoke up.

"Master Neloth I presume?"

"Yes. And you are... well, I know already. The Dragonborn and her _lover_. Quaint."

"Great. Another snooty mage."

He looked back at the Dragonborn as she stalked past him, her movements silent and as deadly as the serpents that lived in Black Marsh. He watched silently as she stopped a few feet from one of the workers, who didn't acknowledge that she was standing right next to them.

"How long have they been building this?"

"Six days now."

He noted that the Dragonborn and her lover exchanged a look after he gave them that small answer.

"A coincidence? No. This happened when something else happened at the same time in Skyrim, yes?"

He was old, even for a Dunmer, but that piercing gaze that the small vampire gave him was fierce enough that he swore he may set on fire.

"Some cultist bastards attacked me in Whiterun and put my children's lives at risk. That's why I am here."

He didn't even know she had children. Interesting.

"Yet they failed, and here you are. Do you know who sent them?" He asked for simplicity's sake. He knew why they were here.

"That's why we came to you. Councilor Morvayn told us you were the best person to ask for about the nature of Solstheim and of course the person we seek."

He tilted his head to one side. _So this dragon knows how to ask for help without seeming to beg for it. A slight improvement on my first impressions._

"I am indeed. You are looking for Miraak, yes? Curious."

"Curious? How so?"

"Miraak has been dead for thousands of years. Since the Dragon Wars in fact."

Serana smirked.

"Don't look at me, I was sleeping by then. The dragons and the race of men and mer were at peace at that time."

Neloth gave Serana another curious glance. This was turning out to be more interesting than he thought.

"So how does he send minions to attack me if he's rotting into the ground?"

"Perhaps he merely vanished into a plane of Oblivion. Maybe he even faked his death, who can say. But if he does exist, you may wish to start your search at his temple in the north," he said after a few seconds of thought.

"He has a temple of his own?"

Serana squeezed Morgan's hand.

"You have to remember that the world was so much different back then. The race of men looked at the dragons as true gods. They idolized them, worshipped them. But for the dragons to truly hold sway over these young races, they needed people to spread their messages across and prevent any uprising."

"The Dragon Priests. Morokei, Krosis... "Morgan tailed off, thinking of all those powerful creatures he had slain over the last six years.

"You have met them?" Neloth interrupted.

"Wiped the fuckers out," Morgan replied with a savage grin as she turned to meet Serana's gaze. "So the priests were doing the work of Alduin?"

"In a way. Alduin was controlling the dragons and they in turn controlled the mortal races. It was only a matter of time before they rebelled. The question is: why did Miraak come back to Solstheim while his brothers died at the hands of their followers during the uprisings?"

"It is so pleasant to meet someone with an interest in the past," Neloth drawled, ignoring Morgan entirely and putting his full attention on the much more intelligent vampire.

"What's the fastest way to his temple?" Morgan asked sharply.

"It's in the north. Can't miss it, it looms high into the sky. On a clear day at least."

"Thank you," Morgan said after looking at him again.

"A moment, if you would."

Morgan sighed and nodded for him to continue.

"There is something about you, isn't there. I can see it. You have travelled further than most. And I don't mean distance in a relative way."

Morgan stiffened as the memories of Coldharbour and Moonshadow burst into her memories. Elissa, Molag Bal. The slaves and vampires in a world of ruin and destruction. The healing in Azura's realm, the stunning plane of Oblivion that Azura had created. She was only aware that she was falling to the ground when the hot tang of fresh blood flowed through her nose and ears, Serana yelling her name as everything went black...

* * *

Serana breathed out a sigh of relief as Morgan sat upright. Placing her hand on Morgan's chest, she smiled down at her.

"You scared me. Again."

"Ugh... what... what happened?"

Serana sighed again.

"It was my fault. After we talked about Moonshadow, I taught you how to suppress the memories. You recall this?"

Morgan nodded as she ran her hands through her long black hair. She was grateful as Serana passed her a bottle of blood, which she sipped at, all while meeting Seranas eyes.

"It was foolish of me to think that it would work after what you went through. The Ritual I went through put some bad memories into my mind, but I had four thousand years for my unconscious mind to process it and allow any damage to heal naturally with time. You had a few months. It was only a matter of time before your defenses broke. I'm sorry."

Morgan gently took Serana's hand in hers and gave her a reassuring smile.

"If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't be the woman I am now."

"Is that a good thing, or..." Serana grinned.

Morgan yanked downwards and pulled Serana down into a gentle kiss. She smiled at her.

"Depends. Now, where the fuck are we?"

Morgan had noticed that they were in grove of some sort, with three dead bandits strewn around the campsite and blood splattered all over the stone ruins and sparse vegetation.

"I had a busy time getting you here, but I did have a little help."

"What she means is 'I carried you' while she tore those Reavers apart. And you are welcome," a raspy voice came from nearby. Morgan squinted and noticed a man sitting on the other side of a raging campfire, a Dunmer who was chewing on what looked like a strip of meat.

"Teldryn Sero, at your service," he gave a nod as he chewed.

"A mercenary from Raven Rock," Serana explained. "He assisted me in getting you here after a short _negotiation_.

"My prices were reasonable," he shrugged. "And there is no better swordsman in Solstheim or Morrowind, I can grant you that much."

"Pleasure," Morgan grunted as she sat up, extending her fangs as she flexed her body, ensuring the newly drank blood circulated into her system faster.

"That's a sight that normally gets people screaming."

Morgan gave him a wicked grin.

"Just wait till I use a Shout or two."

Serana rolled her eyes but she was glad that Morgan was already recovering from her collapse. She had no idea how to prevent such a thing from happening again, however, so she kept silent. Last resort, she would ask Neloth.

"I don't hear a pompous wizard anymore. The day is looking up already," Morgan joked as she scanned her surroundings, grimacing at the wasteland of ash that surrounded her.

"Neloth went back to his giant fungus of a home," Teldryn replied as he finished the scrib jerky he had been chewing on before pulling out his blade and laying it on his lap. "He muttered something about 'Miraak' and 'Black Books' and left Raven Rock the second your companion here brought me to you in all your unconscious glory."

"I am not sure whether to thank you or put my foot up your arse," Morgan muttered as she spotted what Neloth had mentioned.

"I prefer a 'thank you' if you don't mind. Getting kicked by a superhuman vampire up my little arse is not something I want to experience, thank you very much."

"Shame, maybe later?" Morgan grinned at Serana, who giggled.

"That's Miraaks' Temple," Serana affirmed as she stood beside her love. "Ten minutes till sunrise and we will see what Miraak has to say. Or his undead body."

"You think he still lives? Even after four thousand years?"

Serana glanced at Morgan with a worried expression.

"I did."

* * *

"Six."

"Six what?" Teldryn asked as he shot the strange vampire Dragonborn a glance.

He wasn't fond of vampires, and he would be the first to admit such a thing to Morgan or Serana if they asked. He hated the way they fed, draining the life from their victims and leaving a shriveled husk in their wake. He hadn't known that Serana was a vampire until she removed her hood when he asked her to.

He had heard mutterings about a dragon attack while he had been sleeping with that vicious and beautiful woman in Raven Rock, Mirri Severin. He still had the bruises from their lovemaking when he had heard the dragon roar echo through the halls of the Retching Netch. By the time he had dressed and had staggered outside, the dragon was left in a pile of bones and only heard mutterings of 'Dragonborn'.

Mirri had gone the time he had returned and he had simply sat there with a mug in his hand until the beautiful creature had offered him one thousand gold for his help. He had asked her to show her face, and she had.

He had never been in such a trance before, but he had agreed, despite his misgivings about her kind, and had been tasked with carrying a seemingly dead woman for an hour or two until they had come to a Reaver camp. Serana had torn through three heavily armed men within six seconds, and he was suddenly glad that he hadn't dropped the much smaller woman in shock at her speed. She wasn't an ordinary vampire, that was certain.

So what was the connection between these two? He had been given his answer when he watched the two vampires kiss and he found himself smiling at the sight. These vampires were different. And he wanted to find out why.

"Six dead dragons. No flesh or anything, just their bones," Morgan said as they walked up the path that would lead them to the temple. "if Alduin had brought them back like all the others, they wouldn't be here."

"How is that significant?" Teldryn asked.

"Only a Dragonborn can truly kill a dragon," Serana explained. "These haven't been killed by Morgan. These have been dead for thousands of years. And whatever killed them removed their souls."

"An earlier Dragonborn. Was Miraak a Dragonborn?" Morgan muttered as she walked up the makeshift wooden steps, the murmurings of dozens of workers building another structure around the temple.

She already hated this island. It felt _wrong_. As though the magic of the place was being twisted somehow. It wasn't 'clean' magic that she could feel in a place such as the College of Winterhold. This magic was _evil_. Sick.

" _Oslaf! Ysra! Can you hear me? Stop what you are doing! Please!_ "

Morgan didn't need to be told to sprint, and she jumped twelve feet over the tall walls of the Temple and landed in a feline crouch on the other side, smirking when she heard Teldryn's screech and Serana's amused snigger on the other side. She stood up and locked gazes with a tall woman who had seen and heard her approach, and was now unsheathing an axe and sword from her hips.

"Unnatural creature! Was this _your_ doing?" She snarled.

Morgan unsheathed her own blade and flicked her wrist into the Stance of Akatosh, channeling blood magic into the blade as she kept her eyes on the powerful woman before her. Her heartbeat hadn't increased much, and her voice was calm yet strong. She wasn't afraid of Morgan.

But if she kept advancing like that, she would be soon, Morgan vowed it. It was time she let out a little of that frustration that had been building up for a few months, and this strong headed Nord was a perfect outlet.

The tall woman roared as she leapt at Morgan, and Morgan smiled as she sprang forwards, all her worries forgotten as she went into her attack, a smile on her face and her fangs ready for fresh blood...

* * *

 **AN: Don't look at me like that, cliffhangers are a way of life for me muhahahaha :D Already working on chapter 6 so you will hopefully no have long to wait ;)**


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: Sorry for the delay, I went on a long vacation to get away from everything :P As soon as I returned, I started writing as well as playing Skyrim again, particularly the Dragonborn DLC (seeing as it kinda helps for writing this fic ;D XD)  
** **Thanks to all who are still reading this, I cannot thank you enough for your patience :)**

* * *

Frea bellowed a war cry and charged the nightwalker head on, her axe leading the first strike, the sword ready to follow up with a second if needed. She had only fought two of their kind in the past, but thanks to her training and the blessing of the All-Maker, she had prevailed.

So, it was a shock when her axe hit nothing but air when it was a mere inch from her target. Spinning around, her blade barely managed to deflect her opponents own weapon, her arm straining against a superior strength. The nightwalker was seemingly amused by this, and Frea snarled as she shoved her opponent away.

"Not bad."

Frea roared again and swept both her weapons in an arc. And once again, she failed to hit her intended target. A foot slamming into the side of her head was what followed, and before she could regain her senses, she was pinned to the ground, the nightwalker on top of her, her blade held against her exposed throat.

"Little tip. Don't get in a show of strength with a vampire," she said simply before standing up and sheathing her blade as she backed away, a small smile on her pale face.

Frea drew in a few gasps of air before scrambling to her feet, her weapons still held in her hands. She took the moment to study this creature.

 _Small for a human. Nice hair. Orange eyes. Not like the two I killed. This one is far stronger. Armour looks flimsy yet it has a few enchantments. That blade looks to have been crafted and none of her attacks are what I was taught to defend against. And my father knows of most of the styles used from the outlands._

 _Who is she?_

Morgan smiled as she sensed the warrior studying her. If she had been human, Morgan doubted she could have stood up to her pure strength. Even Lydia would have had difficulty, she mused. Her armour was scratched and worn, yet it seemed sturdier than steel plate. Her weapons were well maintained as well, and she clearly knew how to use them.

"Well, isn't this a nice little welcoming committee?" Teldryn drawled as he approached, Serana right beside him. "You don't need to worry about these two, they aren't like the usual bloodsuckers," he added, ignoring the dirty look that Serana gave him.

"They are nightwalkers, they cannot be trusted," Frea replied, her eyes never leaving the shorter woman's piercing gaze.

"Can't trust a mercenary either. Or a people of the Skaal," Serana said with a smirk as she stopped alongside her little dragon, grinning wider as Frea blinked in surprise.

"She knows more than most," Morgan said simply, glaring at Teldryn. "We need to keep moving. I doubt that we will have the element of surprise for long while we bicker out here."

Frea snarled again and before she could charge, the vampire held out her hand which pulsated with green energy, her eyes boring into hers.

"Don't test me. I have had a long fucking day and trying to keep myself calm with assassins, irritating civilians and a woman who could wrestle a cave bear giving me shit is not helping."

Frea blinked again. Someone was dumb enough to attempt an assassination against her? Why?

"Why did you come to Miraak's Temple?" Frea asked.

"You know about Miraak?" Morgan replied sharply.

"It is why I am here. Most of my clan are here or at the Tree Stone, their minds corrupted and lost."

Serana exchanged a quick glance with Morgan and Teldryn.

"Just like the Earth Stone near Raven Rock. Whatever is powering this curse, it must be far beyond what modern spellcasters could muster," Serana remarked. "Perhaps this Temple holds the key to stalling the spell or at least provides a clue..."

A massive rumble beneath their feet ended Serana's explanation and the four of them watched silently as a spiral staircase appeared. There was a few seconds of silence before six figures appeared, wearing the familiar orange robes and tentacled masks. Morgan snarled and darted forwards with Serana alongside her, a bellowing roar spewing from her mouth as her rage took over.

Frea and Teldryn only stared as the two vampires tore through the six robed figures with ease, blood spattering the Temple floor in increasing quantities. He exchanged a look with the taller Skaal warrior and they gave each other identical nods.

 _We watch each other's backs and let them lead._

* * *

"So, what do you know of them," Frea asked softly as they walked through the Temple corridors, her eyes never leaving the vampires in front of her.

She had said nothing as they had taken the lead, and she was grateful that she had someone she could at least partially trust. Teldryn smirked at her question as he managed to find another small stash of assorted gems in a small purse. Ignoring her look of disapproval, he smiled at her.

"Not much. Only that she's a vampire. A Dragonborn of all things, and not someone to be messed with," he replied.

"So that's what she uses with her voice," Frea muttered.

"FUS!"

They jumped slightly as they watched a draugr being catapulted over a railing before falling into a vast chasm beyond. They could only give each other another glance as they pressed forwards.

"So why did they try and kill you?"

Morgan gave Frea a cold stare and Serana answered her.

"They attacked her and put our children at risk. Whoever this Miraak is, its personal," Serana said softly as they came into a small room. With a dragon skeleton hung on the wall not unlike a trophy hunter would do with a bear skin.

Morgan instantly felt and heard the calling of a Word Wall and walked over to it, calmly shearing a draugr in half nearby when it attempted to attack her from a coffin. She barely registered the three other draugr being felled by her companions as she absorbed the knowledge directly, a new Word of power etching itself into her mind.

Then she started reading the text on the wall, her mind racing.

 _"All praise glorious Miraak. Most powerful servant of all Dragon Priests, whose strength was granted by the gardeners of mankind,"_ Morgan translated for the room to hear, her hands clenching.

"Miraak was a Dragon Priest," Serana murmured. "He was one the faithful that acted on the whims of the dragons. He must have rebelled at some point. It would explain all those skeletons outside, as well as...as well as this one."

Frea swore the air turned colder as Morgan stared at the massive bones hung on the wall, wings outstretched as far as they could be, iron pegs nailing the bones to the walls behind. She shuddered as a string of words began to flow from the small vampires' mouth, each word becoming full of malice and anger.

"What is she saying?"

Serana glanced at her.

" _By the blood of my ancestors and that of the dov, whoever did this to you will suffer my wrath, I give you my word as the Last Dragonborn._ "

Frea blinked and it was Teldryn who broke the uncomfortable silence that followed.

"That's pretty deep, Dragonborn. I don't know about you, but the sooner we get out of here, the better. It's pretty clear that Miraak was one cruel bastard and he really despised dragons, but we do need to keep moving. Who knows how many more of the bone walkers are around..."

He managed not to flinch as the twin burning eyes of the Last Dragonborn met his.

"No kidding. The fact that we are also going deeper underground also makes me think that he was protecting something before he fell or vanished. None of the other Dragon Priests were this well protected," she replied, her eyes still boring into his.

"Just how many of these 'Priests' have you killed?" He asked.

Morgan gave him a chilling smile.

"Eight in Skyrim. The Dragon Cult at the time relied on them to bend the people to the wills of the dragons. Very unpleasant and extremely powerful, even after death."

"So why did you give that skeleton such a moving tribute?"

He growled at his tongue as the Dragonborn stared at him for a full two minutes before turning away from him and kicking the coffin lid at the end of the room, flattening the draugr that had been behind it in the process. She gave him one more look.

"Because that dragon was one that fought on the side of the Nords and the other races when they rebelled against their dragon masters. _Laatvulrath_ deserved a better fate than this."

He said nothing more as she turned away, her blade already out of its sheath, her other hands charged with red magic. He only moved when Frea gave him a pat on the shoulder and they followed the two vampires deeper into the corridors, the words of the Last Dragonborn echoing in their minds with every step they took.

* * *

"That is something you don't just walk up to and touch," Teldryn muttered as the four of them walked into a large room, a humming sound emanating from what seemed to be a book that was rested on a sickly-looking pedestal.

The burning coals from beneath his feet didn't bother him much, nor did the twisted architecture that they had been seeing more of as they had delved deeper into the Temple. But this strange book that just sat there was far too odd for him to stay silent about. He was pleased that the burly woman beside him seemed to share his concern.

"That book. It is not to be trusted," Frea said as she locked gazes with Morgan. "Why would Miraak put this here, at the base of his Temple? No simple thieves or tomb raiders would have gotten past dozens of the undead as well as these robed people."

Morgan glanced at the four very dead robed figures slumped against the wall, their spines broken from the result of being subjected to a full Unrelenting Force Shout.

"You're right. No chests of gold either, or gems like the ones Teldryn has been stuffing into his armour for the last hour."

Teldryn didn't bother looking at the Skaal woman.

"So why would Miraak put this book here?" Morgan said with a fanged smile.

Serana caught on to what she was implying.

"It's a book of knowledge. Like the _Ohgma Infinium_."

Morgan nodded, not interested in explaining what that was to the two mortals in the room with them. She stalked closer, Serana gripping her hand tightly as they approached the book.

"Serana," Morgan whispered, low enough that only she could hear, even for her sharpened senses.

"Yes?"

"I can hear it. It calls to us, telling us of hidden knowledge. I can only think of one being who would be able to twist the minds of others into doing what _he, she or it_ wants."

Serana nodded. She could smell the stench of Daedric magic oozing from this book, and she didn't like it one bit. But she also knew that this book was the only lead they had. Holding her loves hand a little tighter, she nodded.

Morgan glanced at Frea and Teldryn.

"Keep an eye out, hopefully this won't take long."

They had only managed to open their mouths in an attempt to say something when Morgan grasped the massive book and opened it. Within half a second, long green tentacles spilled from the pages, wrapping up both vampires and pulling them into the book...

* * *

Morgan only had a scant moment to get her bearings before a torrent of electricity arced into her body, sapping away her magicka reserves into nothing. She snarled as she felt herself being pulled upright so that she was kneeling, her arms bound behind her back. She noted that Serana was right beside her and was put into a similar position, her captors...

 _What in the name of Sithis are those things?!_

They were tall creatures, she noticed. Yet they had no legs to speak of, they were hovering off the green stones beneath her, a quivering mass of tentacles and other unrecognizable appendages replacing where legs could have been. She looked upwards a little and felt a little queasy when she saw the mess that their faces resembled.

"Who are you, to dare trespass here?"

She shivered.

That voice was overpowering to her, making her feel small and insignificant like Alduin had done all those years ago. She felt her head being tipped upright and gagged when a tentacle wrapped around her face so that her mouth was covered. And then she saw the owner of that voice.

He was taller than her. Possibly the same height as Serana. His robes were tattered at the hems but the majority were clean and unblemished, trims of gold metal crisscrossing the dark green fabric. The helmet he wore though was something else.

 _Similar to the Dragon Priests but this guy loves tentacles it seems. So this must be Miraak..._

Morgan snarled into the tentacle, and the robed man before her laughed softly.

"So, you are the Dragonborn I have heard much of. And you defeated Alduin no less. Well done. I could have done so of course, but I chose a different path when my colleagues decided to go through with their foolish plan of using an Elder Scroll," he said in a commanding and slightly amused tone, walking closer to her, arcs of electricity sparking between his fingertips.

"You are brave to have come here, even with your _sire_ beside you. Oh yes, I know all about you," he said as he went down to one knee before her, tilting her head up by placing a finger gently under her chin.

"Morgan Aurelius. Formerly of Bruma, Cyrodiil. An unwitting subject of the Aldmeri Dominion's training regime, possibly to form you into one of their assassins. Of course, we both know you went down that path anyway," he continued, pressing his other hand onto her forearm so that the Black Hand sigil pulsed on her pale skin for a second before he released her arm.

"Forced to flee after killing one of their highest-ranking agents in Cyrodiil, you fled to Skyrim, only to attract the attention of the World Eater, Alduin. The rest I also know," he said with a smug voice.

Before violently kicking her in the gut. Twice.

Morgan snarled as she tried to bite into the tentacle covering her mouth.

"You have no idea of the power a _true_ Dragonborn can wield!"

 _"MUL QAH DIIV!"_

Morgan stopped resisting as his thu'um triggered, his body pulsating with energy before he walked away from her with a far more fearsome form surrounding his body.

"This realm is far beyond you, little one. You have no power here. Not yet at least. It is only a matter of time before Solstheim is mine and there is nothing you can do to stop me. I control the minds of most of its people. It will not be long before they finish building my Temple. And then... then, I can return home, to finish what I started. Send them back to where they came. They can await my glorious return to Tamriel along with the others."

Morgan stared as a strange dragon suddenly swooped down and landed beside Miraak, who did not even turn back to meet her gaze before mounting the dragon and taking off. She could only stare as the abominations surrounded Serana and herself before sending waves of magic into the two of them, each blast sending her vision darker and darker until her last sight was a sky full of writhing tentacles.

Miraak was not there to see Morgan give a small smirk beneath the tentacles that bound her. She knew where the bastard was now.

* * *

 **AN: Yep, I gave Miraak a few new things to say as well as making him an even bigger prick than he is in the game. Thanks for reading!**


	7. Chapter 7

**AN: About time I posted this. Hope you enjoy :D**

* * *

Morgan groaned as the tentacles that had bound her suddenly retracted back into the Book, and she barely managed to cling onto Serana as she tried to regain her bearings. Spitting out a few curses for good measure, she locked eyes with her bond mate.

"That was disgusting."

Serana gave a typical smile at the comment and helped Morgan stand upright, keeping an arm around her waist.

"It is not a pleasant experience, but we have some information at the very least."

Morgan nodded.

"Strange place to hide in. I caught glimpses of it when I read the I _nfinium_. But to see it and experience it...I almost wished he rotted there."

"You vanished! Well, not entirely, you went almost transparent. I never imagined that a vampire looked so _dead_ on the inside."

Morgan cursed again. She had forgotten about the loudmouthed mercenary and the Skaal warrior. She glared at Teldryn, who shrugged, and met the eyes of Frea, who was looking pale and was sweating profusely.

"It was wrong. No magic from the All-Maker would do that... to twist magic into something so unnatural."

Serana shook her head as Morgan was about to vent and settled the forthcoming outburst by gripping her hand and keeping eye contact with Frea.

"We need to leave. By using that Book, Miraak will know where we are and could send reinforcements. Where is your village?"

Frea blinked a few times before replying.

"This way. I can feel a cold wind from this tunnel."

Supporting a weak dragonborn, Serana nodded and followed Frea through the tunnel, noting that Teldryn's eyes never strayed from either her or Morgan.

He felt them coming from a few hundred yards away. All four souls had very distinct sensations and emotions coursing through them.

Channeling a little more power into the spell that was keeping them safe from the storm that battered the village of the Skaal, he focused a little harder, to be sure that these were not just another band of Reavers.

There was his daughter. Proud. Strong. Eager to prove herself, yet also eager to learn of not only the other customs of the Skaal, but those of what lay beyond the valleys, far from the eyes of the All-Maker. He smiled and moved to the next one.

Interesting. A mercenary yet one that retained a code of ethics and morals. He reeked of gold but also of sadness and regret. Emotions he buried beneath layers of sarcasm and false anger. He was boisterous but deep down, this man was a noble soul and was not a threat to the Skaal.

Then he moved to the third and for the first time he could recall, he wondered if his focus was not as strong as he thought it was. Because this soul was _old._ Older than that of his village. Older than most of Solstheim itself. There was great power in her, a darkness that she shielded from all others. For fear of it escaping and the fear it could consume her.

Then he felt himself being forced away and he smiled. This one was dangerous, but she was merely protecting herself for the time being. She wished no harm on anyone, with the exception of those that wished to harm those she cared about.

He focused on the last one and felt the urge to flee the second his mind connected with hers. Or rather more accurately, _theirs._ It was not one soul here, but _hundreds_. All of them screaming, roaring a language he couldn't identify. These voices were older still than that of the third traveler, as old as Time itself. And they were all dominated by the soul that presided over the rest.

Raw, savage power. An instinct to destroy. To kill. To _dominate._ A darkness hidden inside a small female human that was rapidly becoming more angered at the world, and the people that had treated her with distaste. He tried to focus on her, and was met with a darkness that peered into his own soul, forcing him into the very depths of his own mind.

And in that darkness, he heard her voice.

 _"Do not peer into the darkness. For the darkness will swallow you whole."_

Storn Crag-Strider opened his eyes and shivered, although it was not the cold that bothered him. It was the darkness that was walking towards them, a mixture of suffering and anger that threatened to devour them all.

* * *

Frea beamed as the village appeared in the snowstorm, and she eagerly 'helped' the others towards their destination, smiling as the magical warding's helped soothe her mind and body from the outside world. She spotted her father kneeling in the snow and hurried forwards, grasping his hand and smiling at him.

"I return, father."

Storn smiled at his daughter and let his gaze on the three visitors.

There was the mercenary, his eyes roaming at the village and the magical spell that was currently protecting them from the dark magics at work. He wouldn't be an issue, although he would be keeping an eye on him. He hoped he wasn't another thief, they had enough of those to deal with as it was.

There was the ancient one. She must have felt him looking at her, because she instantly met eye contact and narrowed her eyes a little when she noted he never reacted to her eye colour. He then ignored her and stiffened when he met the eyes of the last being.

Because she was staring at him, twin fangs appearing in a smile as she walked closer, stopping a few feet away from him.

"I met them at Miraaks Temple, father. They claim to have met him."

Storn raised his eyebrows and stood up, nodding to his daughter in thanks as she sat in his place and focused her magic into retaining the shielding spells. He never moved an inch closer to these dangerous women... or more accurately, the undying. He knew what they were now. Their magic was strong, but the All-Maker had given him enough to know what he was dealing with.

"So how does it come to pass, that a mercenary and two souls that know Death too well, come to the village of the Skaal?"

He was a little unnerved to see a twin plume of smoke burst from the shorter woman's nostrils, and was glad that the older one answered him.

"We seek the Betrayer, Miraak."

"You know of the Betrayer? His story is as old as the land itself. From a time when ancient beings ruled the land under blood and tyranny. He is..."

"Hold on, this storm is pissing me off."

He blinked at the rude interruption, and was about to continue when she stared into the sky, took a deep breath (although he knew that she was no breathing in the slightest), and bellowed into the sky.

 _ **"LOK VAH KOOR!"**_

Storn Crag-Strider had seen many things over the decades. From the unnatural werebears, to the undead draugr that occasionally awoke from their slumber. But someone that could bend the will of the skies to their own will was something he hadn't experienced. And he didn't like it either. He stared at the short undead woman as she smiled at her handiwork, the winds dying down and the snow vanishing from sight, and he bit his lower lip.

What were the chances?

"Two Dragonborns at one time? I know, it's disconcerting to say the least."

He snapped his gaze back to the ancient one, who smirked at him.

"A door that is opened one way can be opened from the other side. And by the way, its rude to wonder about a woman's age," Serana said with a fanged grin. "Perhaps we should sit down, this may take some time."

Storn nodded and gestured to the others to sit down, his gaze never leaving those of the tall vampire before him. He had been incorrect in his initial impressions. This one was just as dangerous as the other. And from the knowing smile that the ancient one was giving him, she knew what he was thinking too.

Morgan sat down and sipped from the bottled blood, letting Serana explain their reasons for coming here. She didn't trust this man. He had tried to enter her mind, and if Serana hadn't told her through their Bond, she wouldn't have known about it. He was old, but his mind was quick and just from a single inhalation, she detected he held great magical power and was still as fit as he would have been in his youth.

She simply sat there and listened to Serana's soft voice as she talked, and Morgan allowed her mind to wander. She thought back to Miraak, and at how _indifferent_ he had been to her. He had kicked her twice, and she was eager to show him what a vampiric kick was like. But his voice was something else.

It held _power._

Miraak knew what he was, and what his potential was. She didn't, and that was concerning. Yes, she had defeated the World Eater, but she had barely survived afterwards. If it hadn't been for Lydia carrying her down the mountain from High Hrothgar, and hadn't tended to her wounds as she had been transported in sheets of blood back to Whiterun, she wouldn't be here today.

And she hadn't defeated Alduin alone either. It had taken the combined efforts of herself, and three of the most powerful users of the Voice to shatter Alduin's Snare and bring down the demigod afterwards. And while Gormlaith and the rest hadn't suffered any injury in the Nordic afterlife, she had returned to Tamriel with a shattered leg, broken ribs and at least a punctured lung.

She had been lucky, and she knew it.

And Miraak had pretty much confirmed it at their first meeting. He had downed herself and Serana simultaneously and had barely made any effort in doing so. Perhaps it was because he was living in the realm of...

"Fuck."

* * *

Serana had finished explaining everything, ad was waiting for the village Shaman to respond, when her love had uttered one of her more favourite curse words. Up until now, Storn had been wary and was at least willing to listen to her, but the moment Morgan had returned from her musings and had broken the silence that followed, Serana knew that this wasn't going to end well.

"You wish to speak? Dragonborn?"

Morgan glared at the old man.

" _Not particularly_ ," she replied in _dovahzul,_ nudging Serana's midriff with her elbow.

"Two Dragonborns. Never has such a thing occurred, to my knowledge. Two beings on a course to destruction and strife. You cannot deny what you are, young one. You are, after all, a taker of lives."

Morgan stiffened. He _knew._

She was half tempted to just kill them all, just for the twisted pleasure of it, only for Serana to gently take her hand in hers.

"My love, do not let the blood control you. Nor that of the dragon."

Morgan closed her eyes and allowed Serana into her mind. It was the only way for her to understand what she had come to realise.

* * *

Serana smiled as she wrapped her arms around her love.

They stood in a land of darkness. There was no light, only themselves. No Volkihar blood urges, no dragon souls' hell bent on destruction. There was just two people that had been given new life when they hadn't asked for it. Two people who held the fates of millions in their hands once more.

"I'm glad you did this," Morgan muttered. "Remind me to thank your mother in a thousand years when she may like me for suggesting this."

Serana chuckled. Morgans idea of linking their minds like this was not a good start to earning her mother's admiration. But it had earned her respect. Valerica had said it was possible for them to share their minds instantly through their bonding, but had warned more than once that such bonds were draining to maintain.

Until Morgan had suggested using the infinite power that the dragon souls within her provided. They had been devoured, yet retained their knowledge and magical power. And because they were immune to Time, the spell needed would matter little, for an infinite magical pool meant an infinite source to draw upon.

Both had agreed that it was to be used sparingly, to share knowledge that had to be kept from everyone else, including loved ones and family. This was their ultimate secret

"What's wrong, little dragon?" Serana said as she kissed her love on the lips.

"Miraak is in Apocrypha. The _Oghma Infinium_ and that Book. You know as well as I do that they belong to one certain Daedric Prince."

Serana nodded.

"Hermaeus Mora," Serana replied with a tight smile. "And you are his current Champion. I can see why this concerns you my love."

Morgan nodded.

"If I am his current Champion, then why allow Miraak to reside in his plane of Oblivion?"

Serana shook her head.

"I don't know, but we need more information. And Storn is the only one who could provide it. Or would you rather have us ask that mage, Neloth?"

Morgans look of distaste sent Serana into a giggle, and after a moment of silence, they returned to reality, hiding identical smiles as Storn gave them a dirty frown of disapproval before asking them for the inevitable favour.

Morgan sighed when he explained what he wanted and where they needed to go next. And to make things worse, Frea was instructed to stay at the village, which meant...

"My arse is getting numb. Can we get moving already? You aren't paying me enough to freeze my balls off," Teldryn said after a few minutes of silence.

Morgan scowled. Could things get any worse?

* * *

Justiciar Thendril smiled as he surveyed the ranks before him.

While they had been meddling with backroom politics when it came to Skyrim and the barbarians within, the barbarians had ceased their civil war, a plan that the Dominion had planned decades before, and were actually united as a country once more. He had asked for the invasion to take place for years, and while Elenwen had been more than happy to accept his request, her superior had not been as eager.

That same person was standing beside him, a condescending smile on his face.

Aranath was someone that should have been thrown into a pit of Sloads at the moment of his birth in Thendril's opinion. He had risen to second in command of the entire Thalmor regime in only twenty years, and had yet to exceed any level of mastering any of the arcane arts. Thendril knew his kind. He operated with gold, backstabbing and assassins.

The fact that he hadn't even bothered to concern himself about the deaths of Elenwen or Sulandril troubled him even more so. He had liked Elenwen, she had been polite and was always willing to listen to advice. Sulandril had been colder to him, but she had been focused on the training of the one person that should have been taken to Alinor as soon as she had been conceived.

Yet her death hadn't been avenged or investigated, and it was only on the order of Herself that this lazy toad was now standing beside him as they watched the legions of the Aldmeri Dominion congregate on the plains outside the Imperial City.

"Two entire battalions? Such a waste. One of these battalions could have helped topple the dwindling resistance in Hammerfell, a campaign that has dragged on for ten years too long, might I add. Is this truly necessary, Justiciar?"

Thendril nodded, knowing it would infuriate the simpleton standing next to him.

"Skyrim and it's people have proven that they are hardy, and they retain the knowledge of the land. We know we have the numbers but they have set up many fortifications, and from what few scouts have returned from pale pass, the mountains themselves are riddled with trolls, bears and even shambling skeletons. This will not be as easy as what our previous reports said, my lord."

Aranath curled his lip but bit back the retort, looking back at the tens of thousands of troops that were preparing for war. Even from their vantage point at the top of the White-Gold Tower, he could see the swarms of loyal servants of the Dominion as they marched and practiced.

"And what of the Dragonborn?"

Thendril smiled now. He could afford to seeing as his 'superior' would find this piece of news to his liking.

"She has travelled to the island of Solstheim. According to our reports, she was attacked in the open and her adopted children were nearly harmed. She set out the following day."

"So, if she were to stay there for a few weeks, she wouldn't get back in time to halt our advance with her trickery and pale imitations of magic," Aranath grinned.

Thendril fought the urge to smack the idiot.

"There are still dragons in Skyrim! Just because she left, doesn't mean the lizards did too."

Aranath chuckled.

"They will fall before the might of our archers. You have praised the Second Light in their skills with the bow for forty years. It would be a shame if they were to fail."

Thendril bristled at the barely hidden threat. He knew there was an added ' _for you_ ' at the end of that sentence.

"I have full confidence in the First and Second," he said proudly, having been a member of both for many decades apiece. "But if the Dragonborn were to return..."

Aranath smirked as he met eye contact at last with that of Justiciar Thendril.

"Oh, don't worry about her. As we speak, we have ten warships blockading Solstheim from anywhere else. I have also sent one of my most loyal subordinates, Ancarion, to the island as well. It is high time we learned of the method of mining and utilizing the frozen ice that is only found on that infernal ash heap. He has enough personnel and provisions to erase Raven Rock to dust if needed."

Thendril scowled as Aranath patted his shoulder in a mockery of respect.

"If you ever question me again, _old man_ , I shall ensure that your two daughters are sent for reeducation and are treated as the whores that they are for the rest of their insignificant lives. Until then, you have your orders. I want Skyrim brought under the heel of the Dominion before the end of the month."

Thendril clenched his fist as the insufferable boy waltzed away. Herself had truly lost leave of her senses if she thought that boy was going to do the job. That meant he needed to being in a contingency plan into effect. Glancing to the side, he motioned for his fastest runner and pressed a cold coin into the urchins' hand.

"Do not stop for anyone boy. Travel to Cheydinhal and find the abandoned Dark Brotherhood Sanctuary, near the rotted house. You cannot miss it. Enter and if asked by the guards within, tell them that..."

"The light casts the darkest shadows," the young boy said without hesitation.

Thendril smiled. At least some of the inferior races could be helpful. The boy would be dead after entering the Sanctuary anyway. Dinya was not find of leaving loose ends after all.

He never noticed the shimmer that followed the boy.

* * *

That same shimmer travelled out of the city walls and into the wilderness, before entering an ancient Ayleid ruin, only stopping when three figures emerged from the darkness.

The shimmer vanished, to be replaced by a single Redguard male, who dropped to one knee and removed his black hood before staring at the red eyes that calmly waited for him to speak.

"Listener, I have news from the Imperial City."

Listener Lucinda Aurelius gave a savage grin. It was time to sow discord amongst the foolish elves.


End file.
